


Mind the Gap

by Murmuration77



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, Carol Aird/Therese Belivet - Freeform, Cate Blanchett/Rooney Mara - Freeform, Cate/Rooney - Freeform, F/F, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2018-11-10 04:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 53,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11120241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murmuration77/pseuds/Murmuration77
Summary: ***New Chapter 37***Rooney visits Cate early in 2017, the two have not been together for some time.  Told through flashbacks this is the story of what happened to bring them to this point.





	1. Winter 2017: After Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written before - I'm learning as I go and I don't have a beta so please excuse formatting errors and typos :) 
> 
> The story is _entirely_ my invention, it's absolutely fictional, inspired by real places and events. 
> 
> Please please leave feedback - I don't want to feel like I'm alone! Please do tell me what works and what doesn't - I'm constantly going back to edit so check back in. Thank you for reading - MM

The room was silent save for the gentle hum of the fridge and soft tap tap of the rain, which had just started to fall on the windows. The lighting in the kitchen was dim, only the soft lights beneath the cupboards came on as they opened the door. The taller woman strode across the floor, her bare feet padding softly then stopping as she leant against the sink, hands on either side, shoulders up head hanging down. Her voice when she spoke was soft

"I won't leave him." A pause, a breath. She shook her head in emphasis, or was it exasperation? "I can't leave him."

Resignation and then silence. The fridge stopped humming, they could hear each other breathing.

Rooney looked through the glass wall ahead of her, looking beyond the reflection of the woman at the sink. Outside was pitch black. The darkness of the countryside uninterrupted by light; there was no moon, there were no stars. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back and let out a long, shaking breath. When she opened her eyes she could see in the glass that the woman had turned to face her a long, lithe figure leant against the countertop. Her arms were folded across her chest holding herself, protecting herself. She was so _fucking_ beautiful. Rooney could barely speak, when she sdid her voice felt small and desperate. She was desperate.

"Then what do you want from me? Because you know that I'll give you anything. Anything. And I'll take anything Cate."

Rooney turned and moved towards her crossing the space between them until she was standing next to Cate. She leant against the counter next to the blonde, placing her hands on the cool granite not looking at her, choosing instead the darkness of the night outside the window. She knew that if she looked into those blue eyes, she might see that this was finally the end. It could not be the end.

Cate reached over and put her hand on Rooney's, twisting their fingers together. Cate's hand was warm and Rooney could feel the warmth spreading. She looked down at their entwined fingers and then, slowly, up at Cate, bracing herself for what she would see in the older woman's face.

Cate's eyes were dark and she looked at Rooney with a tenderness that felt so familiar.... Rooney could barely stand it. Cate opened her mouth to speak but seemed to change her mind, drawing her breath in sharply. Still twisted with Rooney's fingers, Cate reached for the younger woman's face with her other hand. Putting her palm to her cheek, Cate's fingers delved into the short, thick dark hair behind Rooney's ear. Rooney sighed and leant in to her touch.

Cate's eyes darkened further and her gaze travelled, so slowly, from Rooney's eyes to her mouth. Tenderness was gone. Cate's lips parted as her breathing shallowed.

Rooney turned her head and kissed the palm at her cheek and turned her eyes back to Cate's, defiantly, as though challenging her. Daring her.

This time, Cate did not resist


	2. Winter 2017.  Driving

Rooney asked the driver to turn the heating up in the back. It was early and although the sun was shining brightly in the cloudless sky, it was still bitterly cold outside. Rooney had been to the UK several times before, always for work. Business; that was how she was going to think of this little trip. On a bog standard promo tour, London had called and then she had called. Rooney had no idea how Cate known that she would be in town, but she did and so now, this was happening. 

Rooney rarely allowed herself to think about it but now in the car she did. It didn't seem possible that almost 2 years had passed. That chapter of her life was so defining, it felt as though time had stopped. The bubble of Carol finally bursting last year in 2016 flinging all of its contents far and wide. Rooney had felt numb afterwards. Deliberately not thinking, not feeling. She was good at it, it was certainly not a stretch for her to keep everything to herself, she was used to keeping it all inside because that was what she had always done. The phone call had thrown her though

"Rooney, hi". That was all she had said. Enough for Rooney to need to sit down. That voice, God.

"Are you there? Hello?"

When she had managed finally to respond the conversation was awkward. Cate had heard that she was coming to London. Did she want to "catch up"? Maybe she could come a day or so early, Cate could send a car to the airport, she could come down to Sussex? At least countryside was beautiful, the kids would love to see her, they could go out for dinner, Cate knew a great place - amazing food, log fires - it'll be great. 

Great? Great.

_Fuck_ thought Rooney when she put the phone down, having acquiesced as usual.

_Fuck_ she thought again now, as she found herself in the car on the M25 towards Tunbridge Wells.

Rooney could remember the first time they met as clearly as anything. It was everything to her. The organisers had kept them separate at the festival, not wanting Rooney to meet her idol until she presented to her onstage. They clearly had a flair for the dramatic.

It had taken Rooney an age to write her speech. She had so wanted to get it right but found it desperately hard to find the words and to convey the right sentiment. Admiring but not fawning. After many, many drafts she felt she had it right. No matter how much she practised though, she still had to read the words, she still had a quiver in her voice.

Still, she was pleased with the speech and pleased at its reception. Cate had seemed genuinely touched and enveloped Rooney in a warm hug when she came to the podium. Rooney found it impossible not to grin like an idiot for the rest of the evening, her sister teased her with a photo of her dimples for months afterwards.

Cate, it transpired, had the ability to make you feel like the single most important person in the room when she spoke to you. She was completely involved and totally attentive. Fixing you with her spectacular eyes it was almost unnerving, consuming. She was funny too, although Rooney had heard that about her. Rooney really did feel like a little fangirl, she thought that Cate was magnificent. She had thought it when she was 13 and she saw her in Elizabeth. She thought it when she was 30 and watched her cry happy tears at Cannes and she thought it now, despite herself, 2 years later


	3. Winter 2017.  Arrival

"You're here!" Cate called out as she walked down the stone steps from the house to the car. Rooney was getting out and rounding to the trunk of the car to take her small case from the driver. Her other luggage had gone ahead to the hotel in London.

"Yes. I'm here". Breathe, Rooney. Smile. No, she could not quite smile. She wanted to gather herself before having to look properly at Cate. She had tried to prepare herself in the car but she could not get her brain to focus. 

She thanked the driver, buying time before she had to turn around. He waved to Cate behind Rooney before getting back into the car and driving back up the long gravel driveway, disappearing from view through the trees. Rooney turned to face Cate, only to be folded up in her arms and held closely. Rooney's face was pressed into Cate's neck. Her smell. Her warmth. Rooney closed her eyes.

Cate let her go abruptly and stepped back "Well, this is going to be weird" she declared. Rooney could not see her eyes as they were hidden from the morning brightness by large sunglasses. The rest of her looked amazing as she had been expecting. Rooney was thankful for the sunglasses, it did not feel as intimate when she could not see her eyes.

"We haven't seen each other in ages, my call was out of the blue, it's all a bit random, I'm sorry. When I heard you were in London, and, you know, I'm so near, I thought "why not?", I mean, well, I wanted to see you."

She was wittering, unsure and uneasy. Rooney remained silent thinking that she had only once seen Cate this flustered. She did not want to make it easy for her. 

The older woman was able to regain some of her composure when a small blond boy charged down the steps from the house and ran headfirst into Rooney. 

"I missed you!" Iggy's voice was muffled in Rooney's coat.

"Hey!" Rooney said, smiling for the first time, surprised by the warmth of his reception. They had only spent a few days together in Cincinnati, then a few more on the press tour but clearly she had made an impression on him. She liked him. He was a sensitive little boy. 

"I missed you too" she said, ruffling his hair and looking up at the boy's mother as she spoke. "It's been a while". Her smile had gone.

Cate took a long, unsteady breath and ran her hand through her hair at the base of her neck, as she did when she was thoughtful. "Too long" she said, almost to herself.

Rooney turned her eyes up to the house. Set in what looked like a lot of grounds, it was impressive. An elevated position gave spectacular views over the wintery landscape, even here from the driveway at the side of the building. The sun was burning away the frost sparkling on the grass of the sweeping lawn. Rooney took a deep breath of the fresh country air and it made her immediately yawn, reminding everyone that she'd just come off a transatlantic flight.

"Are you done in?" Cate asked her.

"I'm actually really tired - I didn't sleep much on the flight"

"Come on, let's get inside. I'll make you a cuppa and then send you to bed for a few hours. We can have some lunch when you get up. Sound good?"

"Yes. But I want to say hi to the kids. Are they here? Is Andrew?"

"Well, Dash is in bed because he doesn't get up till noon these days, and Ro is with Andrew in London. Actually they're all heading off to London this afternoon to see their dad. Edith is inside though, come on, let's find her."

Iggy let go of Rooney's waist and charged back up the steps. Rooney did not ask any more about Andrew. Evidently she would not be seeing him.

Cate grabbed Rooney's bag from the floor beside her and held her other arm out wide. Rooney stepped into the shape and Cate grasped her shoulder.

"Gotcha" she said. 

They walked up the steps together.

"It's so good to see you" said Cate, as she kissed the top of Rooney's head and breathed her in. "I like your hair"


	4. 2014-2015 Cate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cate's recollections from the filming of Carol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm jumping around in time a bit, I hope it's clear though. Let me know if I'm not making it work

Cate had been trying to turn this novel into a movie for an age. She loved the book, it was so mundane and detailed and just, restrained. She was thrilled when Todd Haynes joined the project and things started to get going. When he suggested Rooney Mara for the role of Therese, Cate agreed wholeheartedly. 

Rooney had already signed her contract when Cate received the award from her at Santa Barbara. She had been mesmerised by Rooney's speech. The young woman was so genuine - the speech was utterly heartfelt and Cate was genuinely moved, which did not often happen. In fact Cate had felt increasingly jaded by life generally, not just work. She and Andrew were arguing about everything, it felt like. She really wanted to move back to England, he wanted to go to LA and try to get them both into television. They did agree that they wanted to leave Sydney as they were both pissed off at the STC's attitude to their joint tenure there. Cate desperately wanted to do more theatre and especially in London as she had felt so at home there. The schools were good in the UK, the press largely left them alone, she felt at home there not like LA. She bloody hated the place. 

Anyway, hearing Rooney gave her a bit of optimism back and she began looking forward to working with the young woman on Carol.

Watching Rooney, almost a year later, transform from a sullen little NY chick into a 1950's 20-something was a mesmerising experience for Cate. She and Rooney hardly discussed what to do during filming. Of course Todd's direction was spot on, but Rooney just always seemed to be on the same page as her. Their approach was so similar, both preferring to internalise, to take things seriously. To pace the dairy aisle.

Cate actually found herself slightly intimidated by Rooney, of course she would never admit that to anyone. It was difficult to admit it to herself, although she did. Rooney was so self-assured. Quiet. She observed and absorbed everything, used everything. Cate found herself holding back from her slightly, feeling that she herself may become absorbed and used. Rooney was also physically absolutely stunning and Cate could certainly appreciate the aesthetic appeal of their pairing. The blonde the dark, the sophisticated the dowdy, the taller the shorter, the older the younger. They really did look good together.

The whole shoot had been an absolute joy but Cate had especially relished the scenes when it was just the two of them together. The first kiss that they had shot was nerve wracking - especially as Todd had kept running for so long. There was not a great deal of discussion about it, Todd preferred freewheel and just "see what happens". When she watched the rushes though, Cate had to agree that that had been the right approach for the scene. It really did work. The main love scene was different and she had concerns over it. Cate was worried that it would become the focus of the film - for the press at least and that was the last thing she wanted. The three of them had met to discuss it and, in the end, Cate had to agree that it was justified and completely necessary to the narrative. Rooney had remained silent during the meeting.

Before the shoot that evening Cate had gone into Rooney's dressing room to find her listening to music in her dressing gown.

"Rooney, hi" said Cate.

"Oh, hi" Rooney unplugged herself from her headphones and stood up. So formal. So 1950s.

"So, I'm shitting it"

Rooney laughed. Cate was amused that she could make Rooney laugh so easily. "You're going to see my boobs and not many people have."

"Brad Pitt has" Rooneywas quick to reply.

"No, I had like, little nipple covers" Cate gestured to her chest with her fingers "I don't know what they're called, anyway I had those and I don't have them now and I'm going to be nearly nekkid. You're going to see my boobs." _Shut up woman,_ she thought. _You're making a tit of yourself_. She chortled at her own pun.

Rooney looked amused. "Anyway" said Cate, recovering herself, "I just wanted to let you know that, well, I'm nervous."

"Ok" said Rooney.

"Ok" Cate began to regret saying anything.

"Well, I'm nervous too. You're going to see my boobs and you're Cate Blanchett."

"Yes." Cate smiled and raised her eyebrows, running her hand through her hair at the base of her neck. "I am."

"Thank you for telling me" said Rooney "it makes you more real."

"Oh God. I'm real." Cate gave a small, slightly nervous, laugh.

The knock came for them and they headed off to the closed set together.

In the end though, it was fine. Cate had relied on her professionalism to carry her through the scene. It was a closed set and there was no getting away from the technicality that was a love scene. This time, Todd had a precise idea of what he wanted from them so it was all very orchestrated. Even so, Cate was surprised, again, at how self assured Rooney was. She touched her confidently, she kissed her fully and unreservedly and she was so beautiful lying there beneath her. Cate had had reservations about the line that she had to deliver as she saw Therese naked for her for the first time, but as the moment arrived she was immediately convinced of its validity - it all made sense. When she saw Rooney lying there and the way those green eyes had gazed up at her, delivering the line had been easy.


	5. Winter 2017: Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one and we're back at Cate's house...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I hope the time jumps are not too confusing. I am still unsure of my style - please do let me know what you think.

Rooney sat on the bed and took in the view from the bay windows directly in front of her. The room was south facing and flooded with thin wintery sunlight. She could see the Downs in the distance over the skeletal trees. It really was stunning, she could see why Cate loved it here.

"It was a complete wreck," Cate had explained as she gave Rooney a brief tour on the way up to her room.

"Literally, the roof had collapsed, some of the walls too, there were hardly any windows. Tramps slept in the kitchen, can you believe it?"

Rooney could not. The house was now immaculate. Cool blues and greys, art, books, light, warmth. The house totally suited its owner and Cate seemed completely at home here. She led Rooney up the winding staircase, light flooded in from the double height window alongside. Reaching the top, Cate opened the door to Rooney's room.

"Beautiful" said Rooney as she stepped in and walked to the window referring to the room and the view.

"There's stuff in the bathroom. Just shout if you need anything won't you?"

Cate leaned at the doorway, unaware that Rooney could see her reflected in the window. Rooney stayed where she was looking at Cate looking at her.

Cate swept her hand distractedly across her ribs and stepped towards Rooney, crossing the room in a couple of long strides. She placed her hands lightly on Rooney's shoulders. Rooney tensed at the contact, but then relaxed as Cate's thumbs lightly brushed her shoulder blades. Her skin prickled where she touched her, suddenly she was flooded with physical memory as if Cate's hands were transmitting feelings directly through her skin. Echoes of touch, skin, hair, breath, whispers, moans. She could feel Cate's breath on the back of her exposed neck, they were inches away from one another and Rooney felt dizzy from the proximity. She tilted her head back and to the side, baring her neck, offering up her skin suddenly desperate for Cate's touch.

Cate though, dropped her hands without warning and turned away. Rooney watched her reflection leave the room and close the door.

Rooney had slept then, she did not think that she would but she was so tired that she fell asleep as soon as she had laid down, without undressing or even pulling the covers back. When she woke 2 hours had passed and it was almost midday. She had a shower and put on some clean clothes, black jeans and a grey sweater, and now sat on the edge of the bed, lost again in the view and her memories. 

_What am I doing here?_

She and Cate had only seen each other once since the Oscars. It had been so hard for her to stay away, she had done everything in her power to forget about Cate, to forget the time they shared, to forget those feelings and push them right down. And now here she was.

_What am I doing here?_


	6. From Carol to Cannes 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rooney remembers Cannes

Cannes had been the first time that Rooney seriously considered herself as an equal to Cate. 

The two women had not met again between Santa Barbara and Carol. Rooney was extraordinarily nervous about making the film. It turned out that working with your idol was as petrifying as it was exciting.

During the shoot the two women had got along right away but Rooney had felt so in awe of Cate that she had been awkward around her. Rooney just could not get out of fangirl mode. It worked so well for the character of Therese though that neither of them had tried to overcome it. Rooney was aware that her reserved manner was exactly right because she had felt pretty much overawed like that young woman from the start. She supposed that Cate had sensed it too because she had remained quite distant for the whole shoot. Maybe it was Todd's suggestion. They did not have lengthy conversations about character and motivation, they did not spend hours running through lines or going out for drinks and dinner in order to manufacture chemistry. Rooney knew that sometimes this was necessary, to build a relationship with your colleague in order tonbetter portray a relationship on screen. She had done this herself but that methodology was totally defunct for this job. There was something between her and Cate right from the start, Rooney could feel it but she was absolutely bemused as to what it was. Plus, filming had only taken a month, so there was not really time for them all to get to know each other.

She did not see Cate between wrapping the shoot and Cannes either but Rooney was delighted at the prospect of meeting up with the whole team again. She was not disappointed. The group of colleagues made up for time lost during filming hand had a great time at Cannes. Cate greeted her like an old friend. Rooney saw the spark that she had noticed in Santa Barbara was back in those glorious blue eyes. A flashing, dancing, mischievous twinkle, a smile that went from the upturned corners of her mouth right to her eyes. Rooney could not help but smile right back at her. 

Someone (again, probably Todd) had told Cate how Rooney hated press conferences and photo calls and Rooney was grateful for the effort that Cate made to steady her. Always beside her, looking for her, placing her arm around her, on her back, circling her waist, holding her hand.

_Don't worry, I've got you_

Cate spoke of her in glowing terms, talked about her catalogue of work, her approach and methods. Rooney had not realised that Cate knew so much about her. She began to feel like less of a fangirl and more of a colleague. The two women bantered back and forth during interviews, Cate seemed to enjoy playing with her in this way. She liked to shock her a little bit with her responses, to make her laugh and to try and tease out the dimples. Rooney felt that she was finally worthy of Cate's respect. An actual co-star.

When Rooney watched the movie for the first time at the premiere in Cannes she was blown away. She did not hate watching herself on screen but she never usually enjoyed the experience. This movie though was spectacular, everything about it she loved and she wanted to remember this first time she saw it, before it became sullied with other people's opinions. Cate was simply amazing, she was even more "Carol" on screen than she had been off screen - absolutely believable and utterly in love with Therese, Rooney could feel it permeating through the screen reaching out to her. She could not fathom that she had been part of such a beautiful thing.

Seeing Cate's reaction at the premiere was possibly even more moving than watching the film. The standing ovation had lasted for what seemed like an eternity. When Cate embraced her in the theatre she had whispered in her ear "Incredible Rooney, incredible". Rooney had no idea of what to say in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment people! I love to hear what you think.


	7. Winter 2017: Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back in Crowborough, in winter 2017.

They ate a light lunch with the kids in the bright airy kitchen. All of the children were pleased to see Rooney, who'd brought them goodies from NYC. Sweets, baseball caps and football shirts. Rooney was surprised to see how tall Dash was, pleased that she'd got him a mans shirt and not a kids one; but then he wasn't a kid anymore he was almost a man and he looked just like his father.

Edith had been shy of Rooney, what with her only being two and a half. She was a happy little person though, clinging to Cate and demanding to eat on her mum's lap rather am than in her high chair. Rooney enjoyed to watch Cate with her children. Normal. Cate always said in interviews that she was actually a normal person with a normal life as well as a high profile career and Rooney could see that that was true. She was natural and effortless, raising her voice, wiping faces, fetching drinks, kissing heads and hands - all of it. She had avocado on her shoulder where Edith had wiped her face and crumbs all down her top. Rooney lost herself in the chaos of the children and their mother.

Everything was silent now though. A car had come to take the kids up to London to stay with Andrew for a few days. Rooney had said bye to them in the kitchen and Cate had gone to wave them and their nanny off.

Rooney sat back on the big sofa at one end of the open plan living/eating/kitchen space and put her feet up in the low table in front of her. She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, Cate had put a cup of coffee down in front of her on the table and was flopping down next to her on the sofa, holding her own steaming cup. 

Cate had taken off her crumby, avocadoey top and was wearing a black t shirt over her blue skinny jeans. She lay back on the sofa and closed her eyes exhaling loudly.

"I love them. They are loud" she said smiling, her eyes still closed.

Rooney studied Cate's face. She was so beautiful that Rooney was never entirely sure if she was real. Her wide mouth and easy smile, little lines around her eyes, bobbed blonde(ish) hair. Rooney had met a lot of "beautiful" people but none of them, not a single one, could compare to the woman in front of her now. Rooney had been initially surprised that Cate was actually even more beautiful in real life than on screen or in print; the cheekbones, the jawline, the long limbs, slender waist, her smile.

"Stop staring Rooney"

Rooney blushed heavily as Cate opened her eyes and looked at her. For the first time since she'd arrived, Cate really looked at her, right into her eyes. Here it is, thought Rooney. This is what makes her different from the pictures. Cate was looking right at her, Rooney could feel her eyes burning into her. Blue eyes that sparkled as they met Rooney's. The younger woman had to look away, not sure that she wouldn't cry.

"We've barley said two words to each other. I'm sorry about the chaos Rooney. I had thought they were going yesterday, but Andrew's plans changed last minute. Still, nice that they got to see you."

"And me them" said Rooney.

"So, what's your news?" Asked Cate.

Ok thought Rooney, this is how we're playing it. Casual and light. Fine. Rooney filled her in on what had been happening in her life, keeping it light. Easy. She lied a lot. Well, not lied exactly but missed out a lot.

"And are you seeing anyone special?" Cate asked, avoiding eye contact "I've seen in the rags, you and Joaquin?"

"I thought you didn't read the rags?" replied Rooney. "And no, I haven't been seeing anyone."

"Too busy with work I expect" Cate was quick to reply.

"No" said Rooney. She looked at Cate now. She wanted to see her eyes when she said it but Cate avoided her gaze and got up from the sofa. She went to the massive bifold doors and opened them right up. 

"Do you still smoke?" She rifled in the bookcase that filled the wall adjacent to the sofa and found a packet of cigarettes behind a volume of short stories.

"The Odour of Chrysanthemums. Makes me cry every time I read it."

"It's a sad story. Such a fucking waste". Rooney said. Cate just looked at her and smiled sadly "you're right".

They sat side by side on the steps, just outside the glass doors, still getting the warmth from inside and looking into the sweeping terrace that ran across the entire width of the house. The sun was still bright. Cate took a long drag of her cigarette, leant forwards her arms resting on her knees.

"You've got some muscles going on" Rooney brushed her hand over Cate's upper arm. She felt bold and could have sworn Cate flinched at the contact.

"Hela" said Cate. "Hela made me work out and I liked it. It worked well for those bloody gorgeous leather trousers In O8 too. I got into running actually, after Thor. I run here, in the grounds, up to Crowborough, I enjoy it. The peace, away from.... everything." She smiled at the thought. "I never worked out before really. Running has given me muscles but stolen my bosoms."

"Well, I like muscles" said Rooney "and I can't say as I've noticed anything missing from anywhere else."

It was Cate's turn to blush. Rooney took a drag and smiled, pleased with the reaction. It was difficult to make Cate blush.

"Fuck off. Stop looking at my boobs. You were always obsessed" Cate was smiling to herself.

"I wondered when sweary Cate would come out" said Rooney, laughing. Cate laughed too and Rooney felt relieved. Some of the tension had gone from between them. It would be ok if they kept to banter. Flirty banter. They fit each other that way, that was why the Carol tour had been so much fun. They had people guessing, are they really? Did she say that? Did she mean that...? Todd thought it was hilarious, they all did. Until London. Then things got too real.

"Come on" said Cate standing up. "The sun's out, lets go for a walk and then we'll go out for that dinner I promised." She grabbed her jumper from the sofa behind them and strode off down the steps onto the lawn. Rooney came after her, jogging to keep up.

"Ok. There better to fires and warm beer later or I'm leaving"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a runner, I have good arms and no boobs. Write about what you know....


	8. October 2015: BFI London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the BFI screening in London, Cate and Rooney share some time

"So" said Cate "what are we drinking to?" 

They had already had several vodkas. Well, Cate had, Rooney had had one, which was a start. Cate was trying to educate her co-star, who rarely drank anything stronger than green tea. After the BFI screening in London, the red carpet part to be precise, Cate and Rooney had gone back to the hotel bar. Neither woman had wanted to stay for the screening, and they'd headed back to the hotel in a car together. Rooney was pleading jet lag and Cate wanted to call the the kids. 

It was unusual for them to be alone. They hadn't seen each other between Cannes in May and the NYFF a few days previously and at those events the entire team had been socialising together. There was a big entourage involved in Carol promotion and they all got along so well, it was like a travelling circus. There was a party atmosphere at the screenings and then the Q&As were a bit like therapy afterwards. Cate and Rooney had spent a lot of time together looking at each other, arms round each other and being photographed. They had also talked a lot about each other, but those conversations were always moderated and directed by a third party, an interviewer or a compare. It was a strange world that they moved in, when they had to speak so much about each other but when they hadn't actually conversed with each other at all. So tonight, in London, they found an unexpected opportunity.

They had changed out of their gowns and met in the bar. They were sat on a sofa by the unlit fire, the bar almost empty and the high back of the sofa protecting the women from view.

"Come on" said Cate "what shall we toast?"

"McKinley?" Rooney replied with a smile.

"That was a funny day." Cate was also smiling.

"The line was genius, it creased me up" Rooney said.

"Well, it was supposed to, things were getting pretty serious and the silence in the script just felt wrong."

"They always play that song on the carpet" Rooney was pensive "and it takes me right back to that scene."

"Easy Living?" Asked Cate. "It doesn't remind you of the piano scene?" She was interested in the young woman's recollections.

"Nope. Right back to sitting on the floor looking at you in that crappy dressing gown."

"Oh, I loved that dressing gown! Clever, clever Sandy" 

"Well, it was hideous" said Rooney "I loved it too though. It smelt of you."

Rooney was looking beyond Cate at nothing in particular. Trying to capture something in her mind's eye, Cate thought. Cate decided to pick at it, to see if Rooney had felt the same. The vodka had loosened her up. Should she say it? Dare she?

"I could feel your lips on my neck you know." Cate's voice was soft.

"I could feel your neck on my lips" replied Rooney not missing a beat, her green eyes immediately focusing back on to Cate's.

"That's why I said the McKinley thing. I wasn't sure what would happen if I didn't say something." Cate remembered the moment, the late night shoot, the smell of Rooney as she leant in. The warmth of the woman's breath on her neck.

"Why didn't you tell me that we were so good together?" Rooney asked the question quietly, bringing Cate back to this moment.

"I thought you knew?" answered Cate "You were so self assured, I thought you could feel it too and..."

"Oh I felt it" Rooney interrupted her "I could hardly bring myself to speak to you for God's sake." She was studying something imaginary in between her fingers, brow furrowed, "But I didn't know how well it would come together, how well we were working together, at the time I mean. I don't really understand how it happened. The whole thing was like a dream." Rooney looked back at Cate, looking for an answer to something.

"It was, wasn't it? I didn't want to break the spell Rooney. I could feel how well things were going so I thought it was better to keep a distance. I think it worked. Looking at it on screen, it's beautiful. You're beautiful." Cate stopped talking abruptly, she hadn't realised what she was saying until it was out there.

"I can't see how anything I do in future will be as important to me as this" said Rooney, her eyes searching Cates.

"Don't say that, you've got so much ahead of you." Rooney didn't seem to hear her.

"Working with Todd and Ed," Rooney continued "and you" she was looking right at Cate. Cate couldn't reply. She felt the same, Carol had meant so much to her. Now that the production was over she could still feel its pull. Still feel the pull of the dark haired woman sitting across from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was London part 1. They do visit London again for the BAFTAs in a few months time.


	9. Winter 2017: Afternoon

The two women spent an enjoyable couple of hours walking and talking their way around Cate's grounds. Cate was entertaining Rooney with stories of Thor and the O8 set. Rooney was happy to listen, she loved Cate's voice and she was such a good raconteur, able to turn an amusing observation into a hilarious story with ease. On the surface the two were comfortable with each other, the morning's awkwardness forgotten. After a while their conversation stilted and Rooney spoke.

"Why didn't you speak to me, that night at Todd's?" Todd had held a very private party in the spring of 2016. Cate had been hurt by the Oscar snub, not for herself but on behalf of the whole crew, Todd especially. She really believed the film to be a great and wanted the recognition that she felt it deserved. Regardless of what she said publicly, awards mattered. To all of them. Cate had dropped off the radar for a while and Rooney was surprised to see her at Todd's. Rooney was also completely unprepared to see her. When she had asked Todd (casually, she thought) if Cate was coming, he said he didn't think that she would. Rooney was relieved and had looked forward to the event. When she saw Cate arrive on the night it sent her spinning. She could feel herself get hot and start to actually sweat, she felt physically sick, couldn't catch her breath and panic started to set in. Rooney found herself looking for an exit. However, Cate had totally avoided her. She had smiled a distracted hello across the room but that was it. Cate squirrelled herself away and Rooney had only stayed another hour or so and hadn't seen her at all. 

Cate sighed. "I'm sorry Rooney. I, I didn't know what to say to you. I should have spoken to you, you deserved that, I'm sorry. I was a dick."

"It's ok, you were frightened that I'd go crazy, make a scene." Rooney shrugged.

"No, no, it wasn't that. I wasn't frightened of that. I just - I just couldn't think about it. Not then, it was too much. I was a bit drunk actually, and maudelin. I just hid out with Sandy." Cate had stopped and was looking out over the view. "And I saw you when I arrived, I don't think you'd noticed me, you were chatting with Sarah, laughing at something. You looked so fucking good that night. I couldn't even...." she trailed off.

Rooney was surprised at this. She had no idea.

"I came to see The Present" she wasn't going to say anything about it, she was not sure why she had. It was Cate's turn to be surprised.

"No way! I had no idea, why didn't you call me? We could have had dinner? I would have loved to see you."

Rooney scoffed "Really?" She started walking again, finding it easier to talk when she was looking ahead and not at Cate.

"It was easier to be anonymous." Rooney was all too aware of people looking out for her visiting the theatre. She'd decided to go on the spur of the moment. Having vowed not to, in the end she couldn't resist the chance of seeing Cate on the stage. She got last minute tickets and wore a blonde wig, hair pulled back, some glasses, really dull clothing and carried a plastic bag full of junk and notebooks and no one recognised her. No one even gave her a second glance, she was just a quiet student girl with a bag of notes. Rooney remembered the crowd outside the theatre, braving the freezing weather. Fans waiting for Cate, clutching stills from Carol, wanting to see if she would sign across Therese's face or Carol's. Looking for meaning in everything.

"I didn't want to end up on Insta" she said.

"On whatsta?" said Cate. Rooney smiled.

"You know how many Carol fans are out there. Imagine what they would have thought of a picture of me in the Barrymore, staring up at you in those jodhpurs."

"You liked the jodhpurs?" Cate nudged her with her elbow.

"Yes, I did" said Rooney simply. She had to be honest "I liked all of it. How could I not? You were amazing Cate. You always are."

She didn't tell Cate that she went home and cried. Tears poured from her, emotion just flowed and she was completely powerless to stop it. The pain of not seeing Cate for such a long time was so acute that Rooney had to hold her breath when she first came on stage. People in the audience had gasped at her appearance and there was a solitary cheer, but Rooney just gripped the arms of her seat and held her breath: desperately fighting the urge to scream, shout, cry, to stand up and rush onto the stage. Rooney felt 13 again and in total awe of the woman in front of her - only this time it was different. That wasn't just "Cate Blanchett". She knew that person, she knew her freckles, knew what kind of deodorant she wore, what sort of poems she liked, what the soles of her fucking feet looked like. She'd talked for hours with her, laughed with her, got drunk with her, felt her arms around her, felt her lips, her tongue, her skin, God her beautiful fucking skin on her arms, her stomach, her thighs. 

It was too much. Rooney had felt alone in that audience, she was just like everyone else, she was no-one to Cate Blanchett and it was a horrible, horrible empty feeling. She shuddered at the memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please comment - how do you think this should go...? I haven't actually ended the story yet so would welcome your thoughts!


	10. October 2015 - January 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some insight into what's been happening in Cate's life up to January 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty densep people. Things will lighten up soon but I feel we need to understand what's going on in Cate's life.

October and November 2015 had been a dizzying round of screenings, red carpets, interviews and press conferences. Although Cate always quite enjoyed the pageantry of the red carpet events, it started to get wearing after a while. She preferred to work in short sharp spells, which got everything done quickly but was draining. A week of hotel rooms, packed out days and nights before she flew back to wherever-the-hell her family was living at that moment. Then repeat a couple of weeks later, with some telephone interviews and magazine photo shoots in between. Always on show, being so careful and watchful of what you say, the looks you give, of how you're coming across. Always having to be on your game.

Things with Andrew had been getting steadily worse. He had stopped attending Carol events with her, preferring to stay with the kids. Cate could hardly argue with that, although she let him know that she did feel let down by him. They had always done these things together, travelled together and generally been present for each other. Andrew had a wandering eye, like Cate. They both knew it of each other before they married and in the early days of their marriage they had been forgiving of each other, even encouraging, but that hadn't lasted and after a few years they naturally found stability; being content with each other and their young children. They were happy and fulfilled, creatively and personally. Consequently over the last ten years or so, they had never spent much time apart and it suited them. Andrew had always been her anchor, her touchstone. During the winter of 2015 though, Cate began to feel the need to float away a little. Andrew, she noticed, did not try to stop her; she wondered if someone else was demanding his attention.

They had been arguing too, Cate found it difficult to be able to switch from her private life to her acting face, which was new for her. Usually she could leave everything that happened at home at home. Perhaps it was because until recently everything had always been happy at home. 

She and Andrew had exchanged particularly cross words on the phone just before a Carol press conference in New York in November. It was one of the last events before the film was released and was scheduled for the day before the premiere. Kyle and Sarah were attending and Cate was looking forward to seeing them again, particularly Kyle who hadn't been able to join them often. Andrew had called her when she was in the car en route to the venue, angry because he'd seen an email from an estate agent in Tunbridge Wells. He was furious with her for making enquiries without letting him know. They'd had a tense conversation over the phone, Cate always hated talking on the phone anyway, and he'd hung up on her, leaving her distracted and disconnected for the press conference. It was bad enough for Hylda to speak to her about it after the event. Cate brushed her concerns away, but she could tell that her old friend was worried by her behaviour. She was often slightly acerbic in press conferences, enjoying the opportunity to banter and maybe shock with her comments, God knows she'd done so many of them you needed something to keep them interesting, but this time Cate had taken a while to settle back in to herself. She was staring into the middle distance and not answering questions directly. The others had to step in to help.

Everyone was looking forward to a reprieve in December. Christmas, however, was a disappointment for Cate. She'd had fun with the kids of course, and it was always good to see her brother and sister and spend time with her mum in Melbourne, but the arguments with Andrew had intensified as they had spent more time together. He had started to question her choices, Thor, Ocean's 8, were not worthy of her artistic talent and only wanted her name, according to his thinking. Andrew was convinced that TV was the direction they should be heading in and had been talking to a mutual friend about getting Cate onto her new project which was filming in Maine in the new year. Cate was furious with him about that, it was embarrassing trailing on the coat tails of her peer, Nicole was already months into the project and Cate wouldn't dream of jumping on at such a late stage in the game. She had an agent already and Cate was adamant that she was not going to start taking direction from Andrew about her career.

Their disagreement about moving to the UK had blown up too after Cate found a wonderful house that she set her heart on. In the end, almost forced to by her mum, they sat down and talked through everything as though it was business. They negotiated and compromised. Cate finally agreed to do a broadway stint with the STC (something she had committed to previously but had had no intention of following through) with a play that Andrew had written in exchange for buying the property in the UK and moving the kids there. She also promised to schedule in a meeting with Hylda to consider, properly, a move into television. Andrew had a few friends at the BBC with some promising ideas. In reality, she knew that Andrew would be commuting to Sydney for the STC for some time to come and she had zero intention of talking to Hylda. 

So, Cate looked forward to the first week in January 2016, when she would leave Andrew at home and go to the States for a week of appearances ahead of the Golden Globes and then, finally, the Oscars. And January was fun, she and Rooney and the gang had had a great time together. Cate left everything parked at home, this time she managed to totally shut it off. The team was relaxed and refreshed with renewed vigour for the film and the awards season. 

Cate was so proud to be at Palm Springs to see Rooney receive the Spotlight award and the whole team had had a ball at the W Magazine party after the American Cinemathique screening a few days after Palm Springs. Cate had enjoyed herself a little too much and woke the next day with a thumping headache. She still hadn't persuaded Rooney to drink with her so had to make do with Hylda who could drink like a freaking fish. The next day was the AFI awards, where all Cate really wanted to do was to sit down and chat quietly with Rooney. This proved impossible not least because photographers followed them everywhere. Still, there were a few more functions on the calendar.

Cate was not looking forward to the Golden Globes because Andrew had decided to attend with her. This was the first event for a while that he'd come to, she was used to being by herself and was enjoying it. 

Carol got bypassed at the Globes, again, Cate was disappointed by that, again. Awards were seemingly illusive for this film. Andrew was largely unmoved by the whole thing. He could not understand Cate's disappointment and he spent the evening standoffishly observing Cate and Rooney, their photo calls and carpet chats. Cate used to regard him as a reassuring presence but she found herself looking over to Rooney or Todd rather than her husband. It was a strange feeling for Cate not to need to attach herself to him. She felt lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment - it keeps me going!!


	11. After the Globes 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys - I screwed up. This is chapter 11 and comes before "Dinner". I've re-ordered everything now but please re read the past few chapters to get it right. I'm sorry!

The morning after the Golden Globes, Rooney heard a soft knock at her hotel room door. She opened it to see Cate. She was wrapped in an oversized jumper and wearing sunglasses. When she took them off and Rooney could see that she'd been crying.

"God what's wrong?" Asked Rooney as she ushered Cate into the room.

"I just wanted to say bye before we head off to the airport" said Cate. "I needed to see a friendly face."

Rooney stepped to her and hugged her tightly. "What's happened? Is everyone alright?" Rooney was worried that something had happened to one of the kids. The whole Blanchett-Upton clan had come to town for the Globes.

"Yes, everyone's fine, don't worry. I'm being daft. Andrew and I had a fight last night, we were both a little drunk, we said things that were... unfair - both of us. I hate it." She stepped away from Rooney.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" asked Rooney. She wasn't sure that she actually wanted to hear. She had tried to like Andrew, really she had, but she just couldn't warm to him. They'd spent the evening together last night, he did not look happy and Cate was clearly treading on eggshells around him. Rooney was concerned for her friend but at the same time, did not want to get involved in whatever was going on there. The disappointment at the Globes was palpable amongst the whole team and Rooney found it easier to stay quiet and retreat. Her usual MO.

"No, no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come." Cate turned to go. 

"No come on, sit" Rooney put her hands on the taller woman's shoulders and guided her down to a chair. "You can't go when you're upset, sit down."

Cate sat down. Rooney thought she looked drained. She felt incredibly awkward in this situation. "I think I'm breaking up with Charlie" she blurted.

"What? Why? I didn't realise you were having problems?" Cate was surprised. In reality, Rooney barely mentioned him at all. They didn't talk to each other about their relationships. Not through conscious choice, they just didn't go there. Cate realised that she knew actually very little about Rooney's private life.

"Oh it sounds so cliche, but I just think it's not working anymore. We've been friends for years and years and I guess, I'm not sure that we need each other anymore. I'll always have, you know, feelings for him, he'll always be important but I think I just need to be on my own for a while. I guess we've "grown apart". God it sounds dull." Rooney smiled, she didn't seem upset "don't you feel that you need certain people at different times in your life?" She questioned Cate. "Then you move on?"

"Well, yes," Cate had been listening "I don't know, it sounds a bit, mercenary?"

"I don't mean it to be. I'm over simplifying I think, but maybe sometimes it's better to strip things back. To think "what do I need?" "What am I giving?" I need more than he can give me right now, I think. And I'm not adding anything positive to his life."

"And what do you need?" Asked Cate. Rooney wasn't usually so open, Cate was surprised at her friend's candour and grateful to be removed from her own problems.

"I haven't really worked that out."

Rooney was lying. She knew exactly what she needed. She needed to be wanted, to be cherished to be desired and to desire. Really to desire. She'd been attracted to Charlie when they first got together but it wasn't an animal attraction. She realised quite early in their relationship that, although she loved his personality, she wasn't wildly attracted to him. She loved the security and stability he gave her. They had fun with their mutual friends, he was supportive of her work all of that stuff. He was an anchor and she had needed that. 

Spending the past few months talking about Carol and Therese's longing for each other made her realise that she just didn't long for him and she was pretty sure he didn't long for her. She had never actually longed for anyone she realised. Charlie was easy and comfortable, but now she didn't want easy and comfortable.

"What's going on in there?" Asked Cate, tapping her own head with her finger "what are you thinking?"

"I'm sorry" Rooney snapped out of her reverie, waving her hand up, "you came to me with a problem and I'm blathering on."

"No, don't be sorry" Cate stood up "I should go"

Rooney stood too, facing the taller woman. They were looking at each other. Not talking, just looking at each other, as they had done so many times over the past few months. No talking, just looking, they didn't feel the need to speak. 

Can she feel it? Thought Rooney. It's still here. There's still something between us.

Rooney went to speak but Cate silenced her by putting her fingers ever so lightly against her lips. "Find someone who will adore you Rooney" she said. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. Rooney closed her eyes for the briefest moment, she wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. Fuck, why did she never know what to say? Before she could compose herself, Cate had turned and gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on Rooney - get involved. Will she become bolder... please keep commenting!


	12. Winter 2017: Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **addition** did you read chapter 11? I messed up and missed out a chapter. There is an extra chapter 11, so please make sure you read that before this one. Thank you and sorry.
> 
> I feel cheeky even calling this a chapter, it's a lead in...

Rooney was pleased to find a log fire burning next to the quiet corner table that they were seated at. Cate got her a proper beer, which she soon swapped for a glass from the bottle of red wine that Cate had ordered, having discovered that warm beer was not something a girl from NYC could get along with. They ordered and waited for their food. Rooney had always liked the way that she and Cate didn't need to talk constantly, they could enjoy a companionable silence.

"Thanks Tom." Said Cate, as the waiter placed their starters. Clearly a favourite place of hers, Cate was on first name with the staff at The Griffin. She explained that she liked it so much here not least because they were very discrete. Cate had been many times (they did an excellent BBQ in the summer which appealed to her Australian sensibilities), and was never bothered too much or photographed. She hadn't ended up on Instagram. Yes, she knew what Instagram was, she wasn't a complete fuckwit.

The restaurant was full but their table was secluded. Cosy and warm they sat adjacent to each other on a small square table looking out onto the bar area. Cate was right, no one even gave them a second glance. They were just two friends enjoying dinner. Both of them had dressed down and appropriately for the winter weather, although Cate had shed her jumper feeling the warmth from the fire. She had on a plain white, closely fitted shirt which, in truth, Rooney found quite distracting.

They enjoyed their food, Cate telling Rooney all about the area and places she'd visited with the kids. She really seemed to be making a proper life for them all in this little corner of England.

Once they'd finished eating and Tom cleared their plates, Cate poured more wine and sat back, folding her arms.

"So. Do you want to talk properly while you're here or shall we just keep up with this?" Cate motioned with her hand back and forth between them. She was asking with sincerity, not being sarcastic. 

Rooney had been dreading this moment. She had half hoped that it wouldn't come and she could just spend her time with Cate in this little bubble of denial. The bubble she had been living in for the past year. 

"I'm not sure what there is to say Cate. You were pretty clear. I think I was too." Rooney looked at her wine glass, fingering the stem. Shit shit shit. She'd spent so long forcing the feelings away. Not thinking about it, trying not to remember any of it. Any of it. Shit.

"Give me a chance to explain Rooney, please" Cate was pleading, begging with her eyes, she reached out tentertively, to touch Rooney's hand.

Rooney couldn't do it. She almost leapt from the table when Cate touched her, pulling her hand back as if it actually hurt. It did. "I can't, I'm sorry, I can't" she stumbled out, pushing her way past the people at the bar and opening the door into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a real pub not far from where CB lives. If any of you are in the area - let me know, I'll buy you a proper beer ;)


	13. London 2016: The BAFTAs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so we're going to spend a few chapters in 2016. I hope Rooney keeps warm outside the pub in the meantime.

Cate was pleased with her look for the BAFTAs. Her embroided McQueen gown was truly stunning. She had had a great afternoon getting ready with her team, who were also some of her oldest and closest friends. It had been a month since the Globes and that dreadful night with Andrew. Her family had since relocated to England and were staying at a friend's empty place in Brighton, close to where she and Andrew used to live. She loved it down there and couldn't wait to get in to the new house when it was finally ready. In the meantime, well, things were tolerable. 

She'd been in London for a few days alone and had enjoyed the pre awards dinner the night before with Mary. But what she was really looking forward to, was seeing Rooney at the awards. Actually she was a bit nervous, she had no idea why but she was aware that their time was running out and the thought irked her. It was always like this, a team brought together and sharing so much then suddenly separated, flung back into their old lives without necessarily crossing paths again. It was amost cruel. There were very few people that Cate chose to keep in touch with and she wanted Rooney to be one of them. 

On the night of the awards, the two women didn't see each other on the carpet but caught up inside the theatre. Cate found her seat and Rooney was directly in front of her. Rooney stood up and embraced Cate when she came round. "It's good to see you," said Rooney, hugging her tightly.

"Always" said Cate.

"I was worried about you, after the Globes". Rooney looked concerned, but not too concerned. People were watching.

"Bah, don't worry" Cate waved her hand "I'm fine. You look incredible."

"Thank you." Said Rooney, accepting the compliment. Cate meant it and it occurred to her at that moment how much she wanted to touch Rooney's beautiful shoulders in that dress. She stayed with that thought and realised she was staring at Rooney. God, what had come over her.

"I guess we should sit" Cate moved away, squeezing Rooney's hand as she did so.

The co-stars spent more time together at the after party. Cate had changed and was equally pleased with her second dress. She had decided to sod the lot of them. Carol was clearly not going to get the recognition it deserved from the establishment, then film was a risk that had not paid off in terms of awards. She would show them that she did not give a shiny fuck. Even though she did.

At the bar, on her 4th (5th?) vodka and tonic, Hylda told her to slow down. This wasn't something that Hylda would usually say and Cate was irritated by it. Hylda immediately backed off, she knew when to leave Cate alone and this was clearly the time. So Cate was, unusually, alone at the bar when Rooney came over. Cate smiled at her.

"To president McKinley" Rooney said, clinking her glass to Cate's.

"Fuck" said Cate, smiling broadly. People were watching, always bloody watching. "I'm so pissed off."

Rooney smiled and said nothing and Cate continued "I feel cheated. We deserve so much more than a constant fucking brush off. I feel so bad for Todd, so bad for you Rooney"

"Don't, it's not worth it. It's enough that the film got made. That's enough, it's out there Cate, everyone can see it. We don't need anyone to tell us how good it is." Rooney was sincere. She didn't feel the same way that Cate did, she didn't take it personally. 

Cate sank her drink and motioned to the bar tender for another. Rooney noticed that he was actually pouring her small vodkas with mostly tonic and a lot of ice. Cate winked at her, "I'm not a complete fucking lush. Yet."

She turned back around to face the room. "Well, I've spoken to all of the stuffed shirts, I've pressed the flesh and behaved. Now, I would like to get drunk properly. With you."

"Ok" Rooney looked unsure. Cate smiled and her blue eyes sparkled. She ordered Rooney a drink too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this one. I'm sorry that my chapters are all so short, to make up for it I'll try to post some more today. Would you rather I slowed down and gave you more time between chapters?? I don't want to overkill... let me know!


	14. London 2016: After the BAFTAs - Taxi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a chapter. It's a couple of paragraphs. I can't help it, I want to drip feed you

Cate had held her hand tightly in the cab on the way back to the hotel. It was only just gone midnight and they'd conspiratorially sneaked out of the BAFTA after party, agreeing to go back to their hotel and carry on drinking. Cate could handle her booze, thought Rooney. She didn't seem at all drunk. Rooney hadn't even tried to keep up at the party. She was a lightweight and she knew it. The two women had tried to talk at the bar, moving closer together. Arms touching, leaning in to each other to hear. Cate's arm snaked around Rooney's back, her hand on her spine. 

Rooney felt hot, they were constantly interrupted, Cate suggested leaving.

Rooney looked at Cate from the corner of her eye. The older woman was looking out of the window into the night. The window of the car was streaked with the drizzle that had started to fall. They stopped at a red light and Cate sighed. She looked incredible tonight, Rooney thought. She was always incredible, magnetic. Rooney had watched people clamouring to be near her earlier at the party as they always did. It was like they were drawn to her, wanting to be noticed by her. Rooney wondered if it was exhausting.

Rooney turned and looked out of her own window. She was aware of her heart thumping in her chest. What was she doing? It was a fantasy, it couldn't be real. She was in a cab, in London, with Cate Blanchett. It was like the whole thing suddenly struck her. This just didn't happen. Rooney had worked with some pretty amazing people and had found herself in some strange situations before, but nothing topped this. Usually she was able to go with the flow, she'd done exactly that when shooting Carol and indeed, during the circus that followed. She hadn't thought too much about it she'd just let herself be carried along. It was what she'd done her whole life, float along letting things happen to her, not really paying too much attention to the how's or the why's. Now she was gradually waking up to the fact that this was happening, it felt ridiculous that she hadn't thought about it properly until now. All those interviews, "yes, it was amazing working with Cate Blanchett" "yes, it was everything I thought it would be and more "yes, it is easy to fall in love with Cate". Words had come from her mouth and she hadn't even thought about them. She had worked with her idol, this woman had seriously been her fucking idol since she was a teenager. They had made a film together, an amazing film. Cate cared about what she thought and felt, they were actual friends. 

Rooney felt like she was waking up. Ever since splitting with Charlie, things had started coming into focus. Crystallising in her mind, like she was coming out of a fog, and what was clearest to her, what seemed to be pulling her out of the mist, was the woman sitting next to her in the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have to say it do it?? Tell me what you're thinking!


	15. London 2016: After the BAFTAS - The Bar

"This feels strangely familiar...". Cate smiled. She was sitting with one leg under the other (no mean feat in that dress) facing Rooney on a high backed sofa tucked in the corner of the bar. This particular boutique hotel was almost exclusively hired out by BAFTA teams and consequently was deserted. The women had a bottle of Black Cow vodka and a jug of ice on the table beside them.

Rooney just nodded as she meant back on the sofa, nursing her drink.

"I feel that I want to escape my life". Cate was almost talking to herself, looking down at her drink. "I've been so fortunate, I really have. But something's missing."

"What is it? Tell me". This time Rooney found that she did want to know. 

"Oh, I don't think it's any one thing in particular". Cate wanted to get it out, to talk to someone. She had a few close friends but they'd know her for years, they knew her family. It was refreshing for Cate to gain a new friend, someone without preconceptions. And she found Rooney so easy to talk to, she really listened without expectation and without judgement.

"Andrew and I haven't been getting along. I don't feel the same way towards him, I've changed. He's changed too actually, maybe more than me. We're not the same people as we were, what, nearly 20 years ago. God is it that long...". She paused. "I just, I used to really need him," she put so much emphasis on the word "he understood me, no one else did, no one else got in. He kept me on a level he really did. The same things were important to us and now... well, as cliche as it is I think it's the kids mainly holding us together."

"What about the theatre? Your work? The STC?" Asked Rooney.

Cate snorted "they hated us and that made him resentful. He's never been resentful and I loved him for that, I always thought he was amazing for that. He's "The Hand" you know? He was never in the pictures in the early days, they cut him out, you could only see his hand on my waist." She laughed at the memory "fuck I was so selfish. He never asked anything of me. When the kids came along my career took a break, which I wanted, but now I've started working more his is drying up. He felt the STC tenure was because they wanted my name. The whispers were that we were just names. He hated it. I thought it would help us, but it hasn't."

"Cate, I had no idea."

"No one does. I haven't spoken about it with anyone." Cate closed her eyes. "I did love him. I do love him. But I just don't need him in the same way." She repeated it to herself, justifying it to herself.

"And there's the physical side of things...". She looked at Rooney.

"You don't have to tell me," said Rooney.

"We haven't slept together for - I don't even know." Said Cate, apparently in the mood for sharing.

Rooney was a bit shocked at this admission. Cate was always frank about her sex life, it was one of her trademarks. Swearing, sex, vodka.

"We used to be, well, very active. I was so attracted to his mind. That made him very sexy to me. It was never a physical attraction for me, more of a cerebral thing that translated itself, if you know what I mean? He looked after me so well and looked out for me, really listened to me. It translated into physicality."

Rooney was becoming uncomfortable, she wasn't sure she could handle the details of Cate and Andrew's sex life.

"Gosh, I hate it Rooney." She seemed exasperated. "All this talk from Carol about chemistry and volcanic fucking feelings. I just want to feel it, you know? I need to feel something again." She put her hand to her chest.

"I know" said Rooney quietly.

"Do you?" Cate looked at her, questioningly. "Because the only person I feel any kind of reaction to is..."

"Cate stop" Rooney spoke quickly, sitting forward, not sure if she could handle what was coming.

"No, I don't want to stop" Cate was emphatic, she looked at Rooney directly.

"Wait, you're upset" Rooney met her blue eyes "you're disappointed and frustrated and you're looking for something. I'm not what you're looking for."

"But what if you are, Rooney? What if it's real? Tell me you don't feel it? Tell me you haven't felt it? My hand on the small of your back, my eyes on you, my neck on your lips, Rooney. Tell me you don't want it. To feel what it's like." Her voice was low, urgent. Cate was leaning forward now, her hand on Rooney's knee. Her eyes were dark and soft, her cheeks flushed. She was more beautiful in that moment than Rooney had ever seen and that was it.

Rooney leant forward and in one swift motion put both of her hands to Cate's face and kissed her. She took Cate by surprise, hearing an intake of breath, then feeling Cate's mouth immediately open and the hand on her knee tighten its grip while the other hand wound up into her hair and pulled her closer. Rooney's head literally swam. They had kissed before obviously, but not like this. The heat in their previous kisses had been lit by the script and moved under someone else's direction. This one burned under its own flame. 

Rooney broke away and rested her forehead against Cate's, breathing heavily, eyes closed.

"I..." Rooney didn't get a chance to speak. Cate kissed her, this time forcefully, their slick lips sliding against each other's, their teeth clashing as they tried to get closer. Rooney felt Cate's tongue against her own, then licking against the inside of her lip. This kiss was imperfect, ill timed and messy and possibly, no absolutely the most erotic thing that Rooney had ever experienced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This is what's happened. What do you think?? More?


	16. London 2016: After the BAFTAs - The Hotel Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted for you, Miloo (things are hotting up)

Cate didn't know what she wanted when she suggested that they leave the party. She only knew that she didn't want to be watched anymore, at least not by all of those people. She wanted it to be just the two of them, without those other eyes, people fawning over them asking the same stupid dull questions. She had had enough for the evening and needed to be away from them and from there. They had asked for a car at the desk and snuck out without telling anyone. Hylda would be furious, Cate would text her when they got to the hotel. All of these thoughts were buzzing in her head as they drove through the rainy night. She reached for Rooney's hand distractedly, instinctively, without even realising she'd done it. In fact Cate hadn't realised how much she wanted Rooney until the words came out of her mouth while they were sat there on the sofa. At that precise moment it had all made sense and... Well. That was that.

Rooney's kiss had taken her by surprise but feeling the woman's mouth moving against her own galvanised her. She was absolutely sure now of what she wanted, she'd never been surer.

Rooney broke off their kiss, trying to catch her breath and speak.

"I..." 

Cate stopped her, lunged at her. She could not stop, she could not get enough of those lips, that mouth, her tongue. Her hands went up to Rooney's head, she felt the back of her skull through that gorgeous dark hair as her tongue slipped into Rooney's mouth. Cate could feel pressure as Rooney tried to move closer, she heard a whimper as she bit Rooney's lower lip; she didn't know which one of them made the sound, but it made her moan. She slid one hand down from Rooney's hair, to her neck, to her collarbone, God, she wanted to feel her skin.

Suddenly Rooney pulled back, they heard glasses clinking. A waiter had come in and was clearing the bar behind them. Rooney looked over the back of the sofa towards him. It was alright, he was oblivious to them. Her eyes snapped back to Cate. There was no doubt in Cate's mind as to what she wanted next and she could see her own desire mirrored in the green eyes burning in front of her.

"My room." Cate breathed.  
Rooney was already standing, "Yes."

Cate was thankful that they didn't see anyone on the way up. They were both flushed and silent. She did not like the idea of signing an autograph with her shaking hand right now. She led the way to her suite, opening the door with her key card and letting Rooney in ahead of her. Blonde followed brunette into the room and shut the door. She didn't turn on the lights, there was no need as the lights of the city illuminated the room enough for her to see perfectly, the gorgeous woman standing in front of her. Rooney was keeping a distance. Cate moved towards her but Rooney held up her hand.

"Cate, stop." Again. Damn it. "Please."

Cate paused, still a few steps from Rooney. Holding her fists bunched, it took all her strength to stay still and not to fall headlong into her.

"Stop." Rooney kept her hand raised not meeting Cate's eye "I don't know if I can do this. I'm not sure that I want to be this to you." Rooney's voice was shaking "I don't think I can be what you need."

Cate's heart sank at her words. "Look at me. Please Rooney. You're always so worried that you're not enough. You are enough, you're exactly what I need." 

She closed the distance between them pulling off her heels and reaching out to Rooney. She put her hands on the younger woman's arms. Her skin felt so soft and cool, her green eyes when she lifted them to meet Cate's, were warm. Cate needed this, needed her.

"You're so bloody beautiful. You don't even know what you do to me. Trust me Rooney. Please trust me. I never want to hurt you. When I look at you, across a room, in the car, on the carpet, God, it's so hard for me not to touch you. I do touch you for Christ's sake, how many photos are there of me with my arm on you, holding you, holding on to you. I need you." 

Cate ran her hands lightly up Rooney's arms "I want to touch you now." 

Her hands were on Rooney's shoulders. Cate pulled her ever so gently closer, she could see the effect she was having on Rooney and she felt so powerful. It was an amazing feeling and she wanted more. Rooney's pupils were dialating, her breath was quickening. Cate could feel it, she could see it, it was fascinating. She moved one hand up to Rooney's jaw and the young woman responded by closing her eyes and kissing Cate's palm at her cheek. Rooney turned her eyes back to meet Cate's placing her hands on Cate's hips. The blonde could feel the woman's fine fingers grasping her through the fabric of her gown, her fingertips digging in and pulling their hips closer together. Yes. Yes.

"Let me touch you, Rooney. Touch me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay folks. As always, please keep the comments coming - it's what keeps me posting!


	17. London 2016: After the BAFTAs - the hotel room (1)

Rooney submitted then, leaned her whole body into Cate, arms wrapping round her waist and moving up onto her back as they kissed deeply and fully. Hands roaming, hips rolling, they stumbled through to the bedroom unzipping themselves and each other, shedding clothes and untying hair until they were standing in their underwear, as close as they could possibly be. Rooney couldn't catch her breath, she could feel herself shivering although the room was warm and Cate's skin against her own felt like lava. Her hands were all over the svelte woman pressed up against her, Rooney felt like she wanted to climb on her, to attach herself to her, she almost wanted to bite her hurt her, the need for her was so great. 

"Cate, Cate" she said her name between kisses, wide, wet, deep open mouthed kisses. She kissed Cate's face, her jaw, her lips, pulling the tall blonde down into her by her hair and wrapping her leg up and around Cate's muscular thigh trying to pull bring them closer. Cate pushed her away though and backed Rooney onto the large bed, pressing her shoulders gently down until she was lying on her back with Cate remaining standing over her. Rooney wasn't wearing a bra and, although Cate had seen her topless before, Rooney could see her eyes widen at the sight. The look on her face was almost predatory. Rooney smiled and Cate's eyes met hers as she placed her knees either side of Rooney's legs and straddled her on the bed.

"Exquisite" said Cate simply. Rooney pushed herself up on her elbows and looked up at her. 

Cate leaned down and slowly licked Rooney's lower lip before pressing her back into the bed and kissing her. As she lay herself on top of Rooney their skin made contact from shoulder to hip.

Rooney gasped, stretched her neck back and arched her spine offering herself up to Cate, pressing herself into her. Cate's hands ran over Rooney's torso, her ribs, across her smooth, quivering stomach and onto her breast. Cate moaned when her hand closed over the perfect mound of flesh, feeling Rooney's hardened nipple in her palm. Rooney exhaled into Cate's mouth and Cate couldn't resist immediately bringing her face down and sucking Rooney's nipple, swirling her tongue. 

"You taste fucking divine" Cate said, Rooney moaned, a deep, throaty noise at her words and the sensation. Cate looked up at her; when their eyes met, Rooney realised that she didn't care what happened to them next. Cate wanted her and that was enough. Rooney was so turned on, so wet, when Cate sucked on her nipple Rooney thought she would come right then. The feel of this glorious woman's skin against her, her mouth on her. It didn't matter that Rooney had no idea of what to do, her brain had given up on rational thought and she found her way by instinct. Her nails scratched at Cate's long back, her lips sought Cate's lips, her teeth bit at Cate's clavicle, her fingers wound through and pulled at Cate's hair. Rooney's legs grasped at Cate's thighs, then spread willingly under pressure from Cate's knee as the blonde lay herself between them so that she could palm her breasts with both hands as well as explore Rooney with her mouth.

Rooney found herself gripping Cate's hips with her thighs, wrapping her legs around her, straining for contact with her centre. She realised that Cate still had her bra on. 

"Take off your bra, I want to feel you"

Cate pushed herself up and unsnapped her bra with one hand, flinging it off onto the floor before leaning back down to kiss Rooney's mouth, hard. Cate gasped at the feeling of their breasts touching, her own nipples hardened and straining against Rooney's flesh. The heat between them was becoming unbearable. Rooney reached her hand and pushed Cate up a little, fondling her breast and pinching her nipple, Cate moaned as she plundered Rooney's mouth with her tongue. Rooney broke her mouth free "fuck" was all she could say, Cate's hand gripped at her hip bone and travelled round to her behind, squeezing Rooney's buttock firmly and pulling her forcibly closer, "fuck" said Rooney again, urgently.

Cate's hand moved under Rooney's knickers, 

"Off" 

Rooney immediately wiggled her hips at the command to help Cate remove the offending article. Cate slipped one leg outside of Rooney's so that they touched from shoulder to ankle down one side but Cate's hand had free reign to roam over Rooney's body. Rooney could feel Cate's damp, silky underwear against her thigh.

She thought that she might pass out as Cate's hand slipped between her legs and delved right into her soaking folds, pressing firmly right on her clit.

"Ahh, fuck. Cate". Rooney hissed, it was almost unbearable.

"You're so wet baby" said Cate, still kissing her, still touching her, running her fingers firmly up and down "so fucking sexy"

Rooney couldn't speak as Cate's whole hand pressed against her, her fingers circling her clit. Cate sucked at her nipple, drawing it completely into her mouth and Rooney squeezed her legs around Cate's hand. The sensation was overwhelming, she shut her eyes and held her breath, her whole body was on fire and straining against Cate's, her hands gripping at Cate's back and neck. The blonde's hand stilled and firmed as Rooney thrust and bucked against her, Cate was holding Rooney down on the bed and not letting her move. Rooney opened her eyes and saw Cate, looking right at her unblinking. Cate's voice, when she spoke, was husky, low and thick with lust, 

"Come for me, Rooney." Those words sent her over the edge and she tumbled, gratefully, into ecstasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always - tell me what you're thinking. What works and what doesn't. I hope you enjoyed (at last). Thanks...


	18. London 2016: After the BAFTAs - The Hotel (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should warn you...

Cate held Rooney tightly as she came, moving her hand firmly but gently helping her to ride out her orgasm right to the end until her body had stopped shuddering and came to stillness. Cate thought that this was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. Rooney was so beautiful in her pleasure, Cate watched her as her whole body tensed and she clung to her as she soared. She could see the veins in Rooney's neck stand out as her eyes rolled back in her head, she could feel the younger woman's heart thudding in her chest against her own. It was breathtaking; Cate was incredibly aroused. Rooney eventually opened her eyes but did not speak, she just breathed heavily and stared straight right at her. Cate felt as though Rooney was looking into the core of her. They held each other's gaze without hesitation or embarrassment.

"Incredible, Rooney. Incredible" Cate's voice was barely a whisper as she brushed a strand of hair from Rooney's face. Before she could say anything else, Rooney was pushing her onto her back and kissing her almost ferociously.

"My God Cate" she said in between deep kisses "I've never felt like this, I've never wanted anyone like this. This much." She thrust her tongue deeply into Cate's mouth as she rolled on top of her. Rooney broke off the kiss, sucking at Cate's lower lip and moved her mouth down Cate's body. She licked and bit Cate's long neck, brushing away her hair and leaving a trail of saliva glistening to mark her progress. Rooney marvelled at her smell and the feel of her skin against her lips and cheek, sliding down to her glorious breasts, lapping at one nipple and pinching the other roughly between her fingers. The sensations were driving Cate wild as she ran her fingers through Rooney's thick dark hair and tried to control her juddering breath. She could feel Rooney's centre, hot and slick with cum rubbing on her thigh and pressed her own leg up and into the wetness making Rooney moan. Cate went to flip Rooney on to her back, her hunger for the younger woman not yet satiated but Rooney resisted, pushing her back.

"I want to feel you" she said, "please, let me make you feel good." She was begging and Cate relented.

The blonde stretched out and arched her back as Rooney kissed her way down her body. Across her stomach, over her tattoos and few fine, silvery stretch marks. Rooney was worshipping her with her mouth and tongue and Cate fucking loved it. The sight of that beautiful creature on her was just magnificent, her soft warm mouth on her, her teeth scraping at the skin on her hips, her dark hair trailing along her ribs and stomach. Cate had to look away, throwing her head back onto the pillow. She almost screamed out loud when Rooney dipped her tongue between her legs. The feeling was like a bolt of lightening.

Rooney scooched down and lay between Cate's legs, pushing them up to bend at the knees so that she was spread out in front of her. Cate had never really enjoyed oral sex, preferring the dominance of giving pleasure to the submissiveness of receiving. She usually felt vulnerable which was not a feeling she normally enjoyed. This however, was totally different. She felt nothing but pure, burning lust for Rooney and she was surprised that the feeling empowered her "please, please, baby please" she was moaning without shame, begging now, one hand in Rooney's hair, the other clutching at the bedsheets. God she needed the release so much.

Cate looked down to see Rooney's green eyes shining back at her from between her own legs. Rooney's eyes locked onto hers as she swept her tongue, firm but soft, over Cate's clit. A long, languid and delicious taste, "Oh, fuck!" Cate did scream this time, throwing her head back again into the pillow and releasing Rooney's head, bringing both of her arms up over her face. But Rooney had stopped. Cate raised her head and their eyes met again, "please, God... Rooney," she did not know to which deity she was praying.

Rooney blinked her eyes slowly, acknowledging the need that Cate was revealing to her and she moved her face lower. Cate lost herself completely. The brunette held nothing back. She used her lips, her tongue, chin, fingers, it was spectacular. Cate called her name as Rooney's perfect tongue thrust inside her and Rooney's hands held her hips down as she bucked against her face, riding her. Cate's orgasm, when it came shortly after, shuddered through her with a ferocity she had not felt for a very, very long time.

"Oh my God, oh my fucking God" Cate was covering her face with both hands, her ribs were heaving with long shaking breaths and she could not stop her heart from pounding. Rooney crawled up her body and Cate could taste her own juices when they kissed.

"I think you might have broken me" Cate said, pulling Rooney's hair and tugging her head back roughly so that she could look her in the eye.

"Don't worry" Rooney said. "I'll fix you" and she slid her tongue into Cate's mouth and her fingers into her cunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you think. I write for your comments :)


	19. London 2016: The Morning After the BAFTAs (1)

 

Rooney woke first, lying on her back with one shoulder resting on Cate, her arm hooked over and laying down the blonde's spine, her hand splayed out across her lower back. Cate was wedged under Rooney's side, lying on her stomach with her arms flung above her head having discarded her pillow during the night.

The room was dim, it was a grey day outside and although the curtains were open, the light was weak from the cold, February morning. Rooney opened her eyes slowly and took a moment to remember where she was. She stared up at the ceiling and let her eyes get used to the light. She could hear the muffled sound of the London traffic outside, the day had started and people were going about their business as they usually did. Day followed night, the world was still turning but everything had changed for Rooney. Flashes of last night ran through her mind - the BAFTAs, the taxi ride, the vodka -

_shit, what if she was drunk after all and will wake up and regret what happened? Regret what we did?_

The thought actually made her stomach lurch, she felt a physical reaction, so she pushed it away. Rooney could feel Cate's breathing, slow and regular underneath her and so she closed her eyes again, letting that sensation tether her to the moment. She remembered everything that happened last night. Every touch, every glance, every shudder, every glorious kiss. Every. Single. Thing. Although the thought of it was like fiction, Rooney knew that it was absolutely real. Just as she could feel Cate lying underneath her; solid and warm and real.

Rooney opened her eyes again and moved gently off the sleeping woman to lay on her side, propping herself up on one arm, looking at her. The white sheet that had partially covered them stopped at the base of Cate's spine, covering her buttocks but leaving her back exposed. Rooney could not help but smile at the sight of her; her long lithe back dotted with a few moles, the muscles of her shoulders smooth and flat under her skin. Her toned arms were up above her head and crooked with a mess of blonde hair nestling in between them partially hiding her face. Rooney could see the veins on her hands, blueish green underneath her pale skin, she wanted to feel them against her lips to feel the fine hair of her arms against her cheek. Cate had long fingers, Rooney noticed, and big hands. Strong but not masculine, beautiful. She could see the swell of Cate's breast pushing into the mattress underneath her and the undulation of her individual ribs as they rose and fell. Rooney wanted to reach out and touch her, lick her spine, bite her shoulder blade, smell her hair. All of these things she had done last night over and over again and yet she had had no where near enough of Cate. This body in front of her was endlessly fascinating and she thought that she could easily spend the next few days in this bed right here with her. That thought prompted another - 

_How much time do we have together? What on earth will happen next?_

_No, too difficult_ , she briefly squeezed her eyes shut and pushed the questions away. To bring herself back to the present again, Rooney leant down and kissed the side of Cate's breast where the palest skin bulged outwards, breathing in her scent at the same time. God she was so soft, and she smelt faintly of sweat and sex. Rooney could feel heat rising in her again. There was no way Rooney would ever regret what happened between them, regardless of how Cate might feel when she woke up.

_Remember this Rooney_ she thought to herself _remember this moment_

Cate gave a sigh at Rooney's kiss and rolled over onto her side, stretching her lower arm above her head and turning to face away from Rooney who reached out and lightly, with the very tips of her fingers, stroked her back from the tip of her clavicle down to her hip. 

"This is my favourite piece." She whispered out loud this time, placing her hand on Cate's hip and closing her fingers around it grasping the actual bone of her, soft and hard, and then stroking her hand up and down the curve of her waist. "It's beautiful." She leant down and kissed that place reverently, touching Cate's skin with her tongue as she did so, to taste her again. 

"You can have that piece" Cate was awake "it's yours Rooney." 

She turned round to face Rooney, who was smiling - grinning - a full on dimple flashing grin. "That, Miss Mara, is the smug smile of someone who had a lot of sex last night." Their faces were inches apart, both laying on their closed hands, mirroring each others position. Cate was speaking quietly, conspiratorially, as if someone might hear, with a wide smile on her own face. 

Rooney thought how Cate's smile reached right up into her blue eyes, which sparkled brightly despite the dim light. "Very, very good sex actually," Rooney confirmed. 

"Really?" responded Cate "huh, that's interesting. You can tell me all about it when I've brushed my teeth because my mouth feels like a tramp's arse." 

Rooney rolled back and laughed as Cate got out of bed. The young woman watched that gorgeous body rise from the bed, stretch her arms above her head as she sat on the edge and then swing her hips as she walked to the bathroom. She was buck naked and fucking fabulous. 

\------------

Cate's head pounded and her thighs ached. She had left the bed displaying a confidence that she did not really feel. She stood in front of the cold marble sink and looked at herself in the stark light of the bathroom. Her hair was a mess, her makeup from last night was smudged all round her eyes, her lips were swollen and red from Rooney's kisses and she had what looked to be a bite mark just above her right hip. Cate bent down, she could see marks left by teeth and a purple bruise forming in the centre. Looking up into the mirror, she saw a tired, slightly hungover, unfaithful woman looking back at her. 

Unfaithful. Yes she was that, but she had been that before. The feeling she was experiencing this morning was different. Before it had been mainly about sex - experimentation, fun, the thrill, and whether she had acted with or without Andrew's consent she had always known that she would return to him and anyway, she had not done anything like that for a long time. This though, well, this was different. Initially maybe with Rooney it was about sex and Jesus, the sex was incredible. Cate felt a jolt between her legs when she remembered. But there was something else, a connection that she had felt with Rooney right from the start, from Carol. And then being with Rooney physically last night was something else entirely, it was such a relief when it happened, like there was something deep within them that needed to be together to be reunited. An entirely different kettle of fish. What the hell would happen now, that was the question. The question that Cate had never had to deal with before. She felt as though this really should be the beginning of something rather than the culmination but she had no idea of what to do about that. 

Cate brushed her teeth and used the toilet, she splashed water on her face and took some pain killers from her wash bag with a long glass of water. With her face washed of makeup and her hair damply smoothed down she felt a little more alive. There was a soft tap at the bathroom door. 

_Fucking hell she is sexy_ thought Cate as she opened the door to see Rooney standing there in just her black knickers, arms folded across her chest, pushing her pert breasts up, dark hair tumbling around her shoulders. She was completely comfortable in her own skin. 

"Second thoughts?" Asked Rooney. 

"No." Cate smiled and met her eye, "No, no second thoughts. You? You went to bed with Cate Blanchett and before you now stands a naked, tired out almost-fifty-year-old woman." 

"Can't keep up hey?" Rooney nodded, she was completely straight faced. "Well, you've got five minutes to lie down while I pee, then I'll be needing you again." She walked past Cate and shut the bathroom door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, a chapter that's more than 100 words long. Sorry for all of the short chapters people, it's like I'm learning to write as I go. And look - I learnt how to get italics to work. Go me.
> 
>  
> 
> What do you think of the morning after? You're reading but not commenting, please let me know. I'm feeling all alone here :)


	20. London 2016: After Breakfast (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cate's (entirely fictitious) memory of an important event. Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Cate's penthouse suite had a large bay sash window overlooking the street. The sill was deep and wide enough for both women to sit facing each other with their backs against the frame, Rooney with her small feet flat on Cate's worryingly large ones. They were high enough so that no one would look up and notice them there, but they could still see what was going on below. The window was open and they were wrapped up against the chill in hotel dressing gowns, drinking coffee, sharing a cigarette and looking out onto the people below.

After Rooney had made good use of Cate, the older woman had ordered them some breakfast and coffee from room service while Rooney showered. They ate breakfast sitting at the table in the suite largely in silence, not feeling the need to speak. Cate enjoyed to watch Rooney eat, although she was slightly befuddled about how you could have a proper cooked breakfast without bacon and eggs. The younger woman was clearly ravenously hungry and demolished wilted spinach and fried portobello mushrooms on toast followed by a big bowl of soya yoghurt, oats and fresh fruit and large glass of orange juice. After they had eaten (Cate had eggs) they sat on the window sill. Cate had a couple of hours until she was meeting the nanny who was bringing Edith and whichever of the boys was around up to London to spend the afternoon with her. 

"Have you ever done this before?" asked Rooney, passing Cate the cigarette. They had a whole pack so could have had one each, but Cate always preferred to share saying that she only wanted the odd drag.

"This?" Cate raised an eyebrow, "An illicit cigarette in a hotel room?"

"This," replied Rooney, "been unfaithful to your husband, had sex with a woman, slept with a colleague..."

Cate took a long drag of the cigarette and passed it back to Rooney. She exhaled the smoke languidly stretching her neck and tilting her head up, and running one hand through her hair at the base of her neck.

"Yes. Yes." she replied, hesitantly, looking at Rooney from the corners of her eyes "And no."

"Tell me about the yeses."

"No." She smiled and shook her head "It's not relevant Rooney, really. It doesn't matter." Cate did not want to talk about it.

"Ok" Rooney tried a different tack and smiled broadly "then tell me about the first time you kissed a girl."

"Well," Cate smiled back at her, like a naughty schoolgirl, "the first time was at drama school, for a production, a funny little play by this..."

"No, no" Rooney raised her hand cutting her off. "That doesn't count. I want the first time you did it because you wanted to. I need the specifics."

"I know, I know what you want." Cate was laughing. "God what is this, the Spanish Inquisition?"

"Yes. Now tell me". Rooney tapped the ash out of the window.

"Well, I was in London actually, filming Elizabeth so I was, what, 28 or 29? Younger than you are now. Filming was tough, I was insecure I really was. I didn't think I could do it, I was completely wracked with doubt. It was horrible to start off with - anyway -" Cate shook her head and brushed the memory away with a wave of her hand.

"We had been going for a few weeks and got the weekend off unexpectedly and I got on the train and headed off on my own to Brighton, to the sea. One of the girls on production told me about it, said it was a cool place and I'd like it. I grew up near the ocean and I suppose I missed it, maybe. I was homesick a little and unhappy, it seemed like a good idea, I don't know. It was the end of summer, September or maybe just October. Warm still." Cate took a mouthful of coffee, "I spent the morning wandering around this area of little tucked away streets with all these quirky shops and cafes and galleries, The Lanes it's called, have you ever been to Brighton?"

Rooney shook her head "Nope."

"You'd love it." Cate took a long breath in "All day I walked and I walked, in The Lanes, along the front, all the way to Hove and back - miles. I watched the starlings at the old West Pier. Only a little murmuration because it was still early in the season, but even so..." She smiled at the recollection.

"I ended up sitting in the library reading 'till it closed. I didn't want to go back to London yet so I holed myself up in a pub, got some dinner and watched the people come and go from my little corner. It got late and I was going to head back to the station but just along from the pub was this small, dark nightclub, I can't remember what it was called. They were playing a dance tune that I used to love - Olive, it was. You're Not Alone - do you know it?" Cate looked at her enquiringly, Rooney shook her head. "Well, it's a great tune, I haven't heard it in years. Anyway I could hear it from the street and I loved it so I went in." Cate looked at Rooney, she was absorbed. Cate was well aware that she could tell a good story, it had always been one of her talents and she loved regaling people. She smiled, took the cigarette and went on,

"I checked my coat and bag and just stood at the bar. It was a murky little place, rammed full of people and absolutely fucking boiling as those clubs always were, they didn't do air con in England in those days. Lots of UV light, did you know it reacts with the quinine in tonic? Makes it glow. The music was really loud and really good they played everything - indie, dance, grunge, little bit of drum and bass - a real mix of people and tastes. There's a university in Brighton and lots of students, but this wasn't really a student place I don't think. There were all sorts in there. I found myself a space at the side of the bar and was just nursing my glowing drink, looking at everyone, you know, trying to look cool but actually probably looking a little bit drunk and sad. The club was downstairs so everyone had to come down this big, like industrial, metal open staircase to get to the bar and dance floor so you could get a good look at everyone who came in. So I was just people watching and then I saw this girl come in."

Cate leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. "I can remember exactly what she looked like. She had these big black boots on - not pointy, they were biker boots. She had skinny black jeans, which made her stand out because we were all wearing those dreadful 90's bootcuts still. She had a band t-shirt on, Massive Attack I think it was - tight. She was slim and tall with those boots. She had really dark hair," Cate opened her eyes, smiling, and looked at Rooney.

"Really?" Said Rooney, reaching for the cigarette.

"Honestly." Cate nodded and leant forward, passing it back. "Dark dark hair, to her shoulders, wavy. Dark eyes and a big smile, she looked just really happy, she was laughing with her friends and it made me smile." Cate smiled now. "It was how I wanted to feel, I was so unhappy. I felt drawn to her, I wanted to know her and to laugh with her. It was weird how I just wanted to just "know" her, have you ever felt that?" She did not wait for Rooney to reply "I can't explain it. Anyway, a bit later on she was next to me at the bar and I just asked her if I could buy her a drink. I never was shy, Rooney." Cate remembered how simple it had been. "She said thank you and we chatted. I told her my name was Catherine, from 'Straylia," Cate's accent went broad Aussie for the word "And that I was an actress and that I was really unhappy and homesick and a bit lost. She just listened to me. She really listened - which must have been tricky because the music was fucking loud." Cate laughed. 

"So we were talking and moving closer and closer together to hear each other, speaking into each other's ears, putting our hands on each other's shoulders, you know. Then she was holding my hand while I was telling her something and then, well, she kissed me. I think she kissed me, I might have kissed her. I don't really know who started it, we were just talking and then we were kissing. It seemed a natural progression. I remember her dark eyes and her smile, and her hands." Cate looked down at her own hands, lost in the memory for a moment. 

She took a deep breath in, "We stayed there for the rest of the night, hidden round the side of the bar, against the wall like horny teenagers. Just kissing, feeling, touching, grinding. God, she smelt wonderful, her lips were so soft and she tasted so good, I remember the first touch, the first time our lips met, I really do. I really do." Cate sighed, a faraway look still in her eyes. "It was very, very..." she searched for the word, "hot."

"Hot?"

"Yes, hot. Sexy and erotic. Arousing. It didn't matter that she was a girl. She was really hot, it - the situation - was just fucking hot. She had a little tattoo of a perfect circle on the inside of her wrist. She said she was so happy that she had met me and that I shouldn't worry because I would be 'glorious'. That was the word she used," Cate shook her head and smiled, 

"Glorious." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Cate's recollection ring true for you? Let me know. Thanks for reading


	21. London 2016 - After breakfast (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a false alarm - it's the real chapter 21. I deleted that dummy one and it deleted your comments too, sorry!

"Didn't she tell you her name?"

"Yes, she did." Replied Cate, not elaborating but still smiling to herself.

"And then what? Was that it?" Rooney was transfixed by the story, leaning forward, wanting more. 

"Yes, that was it. The days before cell phones, Rooney." Cate sighed and turned her eyes back to the younger woman. "The music stopped, the club was closing, I went to get my coat and I lost her in the crowd." Cate shrugged, "That was it. I missed the last train and had to sleep in a flea pit B&B by the station and then went back to London in the morning. It was a Sunday, there were engineering works, a fucking bus replacement service, I was hungover, it was hideous."

"You never saw her again?"

"Nope." Cate said, a sad half smile on her face, "I never did."

The women sat in silence for a few moments, Rooney smoking and Cate sipping her coffee. Rooney inhaled and nodded her head slowly. "When you were making Elizabeth?"

"Yes." Cate knew what she was thinking.

"Weren't you..."

"Married? Yes, just. Well, sort of. It's complicated. I was in the UK alone, Andrew was in Sydney. I called him the next day and told him all about it. It was fine, we were very". Cate hesitated, "open, with each other." She looked at Rooney, she could see the younger woman processing the additional information. Rooney stubbed the cigarette out on the window sill, leaning outside a bit to do so.

"And are you still 'open'?" Asked the brunette, not looking at her but down onto the street, an edge to her voice. "Are you going to call him when I leave, or are you going to trot home and, what, tell him about this?" Rooney threw the cigarette butt out of the window "is that what 'this' is?". She stood up, looking at Cate before crossing the room and putting her coffee cup down firmly on the table, her back to the window.

"God no" Cate got up and followed her "no no Rooney, that's not what I meant." She gently put her hands on Rooney's shoulders and turned the shorter woman around to face her.

"That's not what I meant. You are not some girl in a fucking nightclub Rooney, come on." Cate's voice was pleading. Surely she knew that she was so much more. _Shit_ , Cate regretted telling her, she should have lied. She had never shared the whole story with anyone but she had wanted to, with Rooney. She had wanted to tell her something about her that no one else knew. Andrew only knew that she had snogged some girl in a club, he had not needed the details. Cate kept looking at her until Rooney met her eye.

"I just, I don't know what I am to you Cate." Rooney sighed "Some kind of crisis? A distraction from your life, a band-aid for your marriage? I don't know." She sounded exasperated, her face was reddening and her breath hitched in her throat. Cate did not know if Rooney was going to slap her or burst into tears. 

"No, no, no." Cate stooped slightly so that her eyes were level with Rooney's. "I know you're so much more to me than that Rooney. I'm sorry, I don't have answers, I haven't been here before. I've never been in this situation. I've had affairs, yes - sex - but this feels like so much more than just sex," it did to Cate anyway, maybe Rooney did not feel the same way, "doesn't it?" 

As she was speaking Cate could see Rooney's pupils dilate and her lips part. Her tongue darted out to wet them and she bit on her lower lip. The two women were so close to each other, Cate's hands still on Rooney's shoulders. Rooney sniffed and nodded almost imperceptibly then blinked her eyes in agreement. Cate leaned in and flicked her tongue softly against Rooney's upper lip, tasting the wetness of the inside. She could feel Rooney's warm breath on her mouth as she did so. Cate felt the brunette's shoulders shiver at her touch. She pulled back to look into Rooney's eyes and seeing no objection she leaned in again and took her lower lip between her lips, kissing it and ever so gently sucking before pulling back and looking again at Rooney, pleading with her eyes, trying to make her understand without words.

At this, Rooney's hands fumbled with Cate's dressing gown, untying the chord and pushing the material apart, reaching inside to the woman's hips. Rooney exhaled as she pulled Cate's naked hips to her firmly and Cate put her hands up into Rooney's hair bringing their heads together. Their foreheads were touching, they were breathing each other's air. Rooney reached for Cate with her mouth but Cate pulled back not letting the brunette kiss her, her forehead still glued to Rooney's but lips tantalisingly out of reach. Rooney reached her fingers up inside Cate's dressing gown and put both her hands on Cate's full breasts from underneath, pushing them up, feeling the weight of them, gently caressing her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and tugging them lightly making them harden. Cate's breathing deepened, a slow and shaky breath. Rooney spoke, her voice low, "God, you feel so good."

"I wish that girl had been you". Cate said softly "I wish you were the first, that I'd met you when I was younger. Before..." she sighed. Rooney moved her hands down over Cate's stomach, her thumbs following Cate's centre line to her belly button and then parting and coming to a stop resting on her hips. Cate continued to speak, "I'd love to spend all night grinding you against a wall, kissing you in a nightclub. I wish it was you."

Rooney did not need to speak then, she pushed herself harder into Cate and pulled the taller woman's hips into her tightly moving her hands round to Cate's lower back under her dressing gown. At that invitation, Cate moved her lips to meet Rooney's immediately seeking entry to Rooney's mouth with her tongue and groaning as she was granted access, tongues sliding and slithering over each other. Their attraction was so strong, Cate was amazed by it all over again. Despite having been fully satisfied just an hour or so ago she was wet already, just from standing like this and kissing Rooney. She had felt a lurch in her stomach and jolt between her legs as soon as their lips met. It was a fierce and immediate physical reaction. She shrugged off her robe and untied Rooney's, pushing it from her shoulders, following its path down her slender arms with her hands. Cate brought her hands up again to Rooney's neck, gliding across her taught stomach and grazing her nipples with the backs of her fingers as she did so.

"You turn me on so much Rooney" she said, her eyes sweeping over her "it's like my body actually needs yours. I crave you." Cate held Rooney's face in her hands. Rooney was silent, looking up at Cate through hooded eyes.

"I wish I was that girl." Rooney said softly. "The girl with the circle tattoo." She smiled at the irony. "Kiss me now, up against the wall, Catherine. And then fuck me."

Cate did not need to be told twice, she wrapped her arms around Rooney's waist and lifted the small woman up easily. Rooney wrapped her legs around Cate's hips and her arms around her strong shoulders as she carried her the few steps to the wall beside the bathroom door. Cate stopped only when Rooney's back slammed against the wall, causing Rooney to gasp at the coldness of the wall and the pressure of contact. Cate silenced her with a deep, urgent kiss pushing her hard up against the wall. Her hunger for the younger woman was growing with every touch, every sigh, every swipe of her tongue. Cate could feel herself getting even wetter, her heart was thumping in her chest, she could hear herself moaning into their kiss, surprised because she was making the noise unconsciously. But God, she could not stop she absolutely had to have this woman, had to touch her and feel her and consume her.

Rooney's legs unwound from Cate and found the floor. Cate pressed them both to the wall with her pelvis, leaning back at the hips to look at Rooney. They were both breathing heavily, bewildered by their mutual desire. Cate did not speak, there was really no need to; her eyes revealed her intentions perfectly as they swept ravenously over the body she was pressing up against the wall. Rooney's skin was so pale and creamy, her breasts were pert, rising and falling with her deep breaths, quivering faintly. Her nipples were a dusky pink, puckered and hard. So bloody inviting. Cate suddenly grasped both of her gorgeous breasts in her hands firmly and watched Rooney's face as her green eyes closed, her mouth fell open, her head pressed back against the wall and her neck stretched out long. Cate rolled and pinched her nipples with her thumbs. She shifted her weight so that she could press her thigh up in between Rooney's legs firmly, making the smaller woman gasp and bear down onto her. Cate could feel Rooney's wetness on her leg, hot and thick. She pushed harder, then backed off and again, pushed harder. All the time she was looking at Rooney's face, captivated. "Cate" it was barely a word, more of a breath, Rooney's eyes were still closed, her brow slightly creased.

"Rooney?" Cate's voice was lower, Rooney could recognise the tone. Her voice dropped an octave when she was turned on.

"Please Cate. This is torture, please." Her head was back, her hands chaffed at Cate's hips and she was rocking herself back and forth on the blonde's strong thigh, almost held off the floor.

"Please what, baby?" Cate whispered, tilting her head back but still looking at Rooney's face. She was enjoying playing with the younger woman.

"Fuck me, make me cum," Rooney straightened her head and looked right into Cate's eyes as she said it, then kissed her, pulling Cate into her by her neck and plunging her tongue deeply into Cate's mouth, whimpering, showing her what she wanted her to do with her tongue. "Please," Rooney whispered as Cate kissed her jaw and neck and lips.

Cate stepped back from the wall and took her by the hand, moving until they were standing by one of the arm chairs, the backs of Rooney's legs making contact with the plush seat. Cate gently pressed Rooney's shoulders, sitting her down. As she sat, Cate knelt in front of her, pushing Rooney's knees apart with her legs and kneeling herself in the space between. She had to reach up slightly now as their lips met in a searing kiss, sloppy and noisy and wet with want. Rooney's hands were woven into Cate's hair, Cate's hands caressing Rooney's breasts again. Cate moved her mouth to Rooney's nipple, flicking her tongue and then sucking, nibbling, at one and then the other while she held both breasts firmly in her hands. This time Rooney was watching, she looked down at the blonde as she ministered to her and Cate glanced up and smiled, pleased that Rooney could see what she was doing. She pulled one of Rooney's nipples right into her mouth and sucked hard, releasing it with a pop "Your skin is so fucking delicious Rooney" she rasped, "you're absolutely perfect," she moved to Rooney's other breast and latched on to that nipple. Rooney's head fell back as she pushed herself into Cate's face while pulling Cate's head to her, encouraging her to suck harder. Cate swept her hands to Rooney's shoulders and pushed her back into the chair as she moved down her body with her mouth.

Rooney's scent was heady. They had both showered but Cate could still smell the musky odour of their night together. That, mingled with the scent of Rooney's own arousal, was intoxicating. Cate moaned as she kissed lower, licking Rooney's ribs and trailing her tongue down over her navels and onto her thighs, biting and kissing and nuzzling her way. Cate loved to be vocal and interspersed kisses and licks with words, telling Rooney how much she wanted her, how fucking gorgeous she was, how sexy, how wet she was becoming herself. Rooney untangled her hands from Cate's hair and raised her arms over her head, gripping the back of the chair, bracing herself for what was to come as the blonde hair travelled down her body.

Cate fully enjoyed the inside of Rooney's soft, creamy, delicate thighs, murmuring her approval and running her hands up and down Rooney's toned calves as she did so. She thought again of how she could get lost in this woman's body. She planted a trail of wet kisses right up the inside of her thigh and suddenly darted out her tongue and lapped once at Rooney's slightly parted lips making the brunette gasp out loud and spread her legs as wide as the chair would allow, searching for Cate's mouth. "Yes," said Cate, her voice deep and raspy "yes, that's right, show me Rooney". Rooney moaned and writhed in the chair at her words. Cate loved the responsiveness of this woman, the animal inside Rooney was taking over and Cate marvelled at it. She could see Rooney's sex, opened for up just for her as her legs spread and her hips thrust forward. Her dark pink folds glistened with excitement. Cate was mesmerised "you're so fucking beautiful Rooney, so wet for me baby."

She thrust her hands under Rooney's waist roughly and pulled her hips right to the edge of the seat, spreading her legs even further and bringing her centre straight to her waiting, watering mouth. Rooney lurched forward on the chair almost sitting upright and gasped again, falling back. "Oh - fuck!" her chest heaved as Cate buried her face right into her, fully exploring her with her face and tongue, leaving no crease, no fold untouched.

Cate nibbled and licked and sucked at Rooney's labia and clit, driven on by the sounds Rooney was making and the sight of her writhing on the chair above her. Colour had risen up on Rooney, Cate had not noticed last night in the dark, how red Rooney went when she was aroused but she could see it now. Rooney's face and chest were flushed, she was holding the back of the chair with one arm and biting the back of her other hand as she moaned, her head turned to the side but all the time eyes glued to Cate, unable to tear her them away.

"God, I love the taste of you Rooney," Cate spoke between noisy licks and kisses "it's so good, you're fucking delictable." She meant it, the taste and smell of this woman was heaven for her, she did not know what it was about it, but doing this to Rooney was making her high, she had never received so much pleasure from giving pleasure and she never wanted it to end. But end it must.

"Don't stop, don't stop," Rooney was murmuring, she was close.

At her words, Cate paused and then thrust her stiffened tongue right up and inside Rooney, who called out her name and flung her arms down to grip the arms of the chair. Cate hummed her approval and continued to slide her tongue in and out of Rooney's cunt, loving the texture and scent of the younger woman and the effect she was having on her. "Oh fuck, Cate, I'm gonna cum, oh," Rooney warned her, Cate withdrew her tongue and replaced it with two fingers sliding them inside Rooney, ever so slowly but firmly, causing her to grind her hips onto Cate's hand. Rooney's mouth fell open and her chest heaved forward "God, Cate" she moaned, her eyes shut tight. "Look at me Rooney, open your eyes" Cate instructed and Rooney obeyed, opening her green eyes to meet the blue. Cate added a third finger, looking into Rooney's eyes as she did so and then lapped her flat tongue slowly up and down Rooney's centre. Her fingers found the rough bundle of nerves up inside Rooney as she sucked on her little, hard clit enveloping it with her mouth. Rooney's whole body tensed, she held her breath and almost levitated off the chair.

Rooney's mouth formed an "ohh" but no sound came, she was totally transported. Cate could feel all of Rooney's muscles contract around her fingers as her clit twitched in her mouth. Cate thought that she had never seen anyone more beautiful than in that moment. Rooney's hips were thrust upwards and Cate could see her as she lay back in the chair, the look of ecstasy on Rooney's face, the desire in her eyes as they held Cate's gaze, it was incredibly intimate and she could feel herself throb in response to the other woman's climax. 

When she felt Rooney's breath return to something approximating normal, Cate slid her fingers out gently, kissed Rooney's dark curls and then sat back looking pleased. Rooney held her gaze, still flushed, her hair stuck to her neck and chest with sweat. She came back down slowly, all the time looking at Cate in front of her. She became aware of the traffic noises again, of her phone ringing in the other room where she had dropped it last night.

"Fucking hell Cate" was all coherent speech that Rooney could muster.

Cate's smile was broad. She raised her eyebrows and licked her fingers with relish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying - please comment (although I appreciate there's not a lot of plot to comment on at the moment, yeah, it's mostly sex, sorry. (Not sorry))


	22. London 2016: The Day After The BAFTAs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're still in 2016 and - oh look, here's Todd...

Rooney had left Cate's hotel room just before midday and then, after she had showered and changed, she dashed off to meet Todd for lunch at the Tate Modern. She had a good time with him, he was excellent company, funny as well as knowledgable and insightful, and he enjoyed to take care of her. Rooney thought he saw her as a surrogate daughter of sorts and she was absolutely fine with that, she loved him back. 

They had eaten at the restaurant in the Tate, high up overlooking London and then spent a lovely few hours wandering around the gallery. Rooney had enjoyed her afternoon but she was way too distracted with thoughts of the previous night to really appreciate what she was seeing. 

She and Todd had said goodbye outside the gallery on The Embankment. "Shit, it's cold." Rooney stomped her feet and dug her hands into her pockets. "I wasn't expecting it to be so cold, I don't know why." Todd took off his green beanie hat and pulled it down onto her head. It had a big bobble on the top. "Here you go." He smiled at her, he knew how much she loved a beanie.

"Are you sure you're ok, Rooney?" he asked her as they stood looking over the Thames, the light fading over the city in front of them. Her distraction had been obvious that afternoon and several times he had asked if she was alright, what she was thinking about. "Of course, I'm ok - especially now I am cosy in this wonderful hat." She smiled at him. 

"You've been somewhere else today. In your head I mean." They were silent for a few moments. He cleared his throat. "I saw you were talking with Cate last night," 

"Not an uncommon thing to see?" Rooney interjected maybe a little too quickly and turned to face him, leaning against the river wall.

"No, no, that's true. I was watching you guys at the bar," he said, not looking at her, gazing out over the river instead, "heads together, all conspiratorial. It looked - intense, that's all."

"I am intense, isn't that what everyone says? It's like my trademark" Rooney replied and scuffed at the wall with her sneakers.

"Yes, I know you've cultivated that image Rooney." He smiled, looking down at his shoes. "And you are intense, which is fine. But, well, just be careful who you get intense with, that's all." Todd still would not face her. 

"What do you mean Todd? What are you trying to say?" Rooney moved closer to him and put her hand on his arm, trying to see his expression.

"I've seen how you look at her" he turned to face her "and how she looks at you." Todd sighed "Just... just take a step back Roons OK? Just maybe be a little less intense."

"What? Fuck off," Rooney scoffed, smiling and trying to be jovial, but her heart was thumping wildly. She had not even countenanced the idea that someone could have noticed anything going on between her and Cate. The whole thing was such a surprise to her, how could Todd have noticed. 

"How she _looks_ at me?" Her smile left her face as she thought about his words. "Don't be a jerk, Todd. Isn't that how we're _expected_ to look at each other? All puppy dog eyes. Don't you guys _love_ it when we have our arms around each other like that? All those bloody photograph opportunities. Oh they're so beautiful together, see how they gaze at each other, hey? Our incredible, amazing chemistry, isn't that what's selling this whole damn thing? We're like fucking puppets, Todd, dancing to your fucking tune. God."

"Wow - Rooney, that's not what I meant and you know it. We're all playing along to an extent yes, of course, but I see more than that with you. She's - she's magnetic. You've seen it and she knows it, believe me. Cate is...". Todd was choosing his words "...a complicated person is all I'm saying. I love her, I really do but she's a complicated person with a complicated life."

"Yeah, OK, right. Whatever." 

"Rooney, don't be like that, don't be defensive with me, I'm looking out for you that's all. I'm not judging you, I just don't want you to -"

"Judging me? Why the fuck would you judge me?" Rooney was angry now, raising her voice, "Why are we even talking about this now? What, do you expect me not to be friends with the woman? Not to talk to her, not to learn from her like I have been doing the last, like, 4 months on the tour? Jeez Todd!" Rooney looked at him with her brow furrowed, mouth curled up, disdainfully, and then turned away.

Todd just looked at her, surprised by the vehemence of her reaction. "OK." He raised his hands. He knew when to back off. "OK - I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said anything. Forget about it. We've only got a couple more weeks together anyhow, not even that." He turned again to lean forward on the wall. 

"Yeah and then this whole debacle will be over won't it. Chewed up and spat out. Again. Thanks very much." Rooney turned to go, she hated leaving Todd on this note they had never exchanged any cross words ever. She had been so shocked at what he said and knew she had overreacted, but she panicked. 

He did not let her leave like that though and followed her grabbing her arm pulling her into him with a big hug.

"Hey. Rooney, I love you. I don't want to fight with you. Take care of yourself and I'll see you in a few days OK?" She wrapped her arms around his waist and closed her eyes, burying her face in his chest. Actually wishing she could talk to him, to admit that she did not know what the fuck she had done.

But she said nothing. "OK. I love you too." She could not meet his eye as she turned away.

 

\---------

 

Rooney tried to enjoy the walk along The Embankment to London Bridge. There was a beautiful fiery sunset over London, she could see St. Paul's Cathedral over the river. She felt like Mary fucking Poppins and deliberately did not think about Cate, the past or the future. She smoked a cigarette looking at the view and then went down to the Tube and got on a Northern Line train to Old Street where she was meeting one of her sister's best friends, Alex. Rooney had promised to look her up while she was in London, and Alex had consequently organised a big group of her friends to all go out with them for drinks in Hoxton. Rooney was exhausted from the lack of sleep last night and the activities of her day and she did not really want to go. Her conversation with Todd weighed heavily on her mind, no matter how hard she tried not to think about it, she could not quite ignore it. She knew that Alex's friends were nice though, she had met a few of them in New York with Kate and of course she knew Alex quite well. She liked her, she was always a laugh and had made an effort to gather an interesting bunch of people, so when they arrived, Rooney tried to relax and enjoy herself and get lost in the big group of people.

\---------

R: hey

It was after 8pm and Rooney knew that Cate would be back home by now. They had agreed to text in the evening, so Rooney had pinged off a "hey" to the number that Cate had hurriedly scribbled down for her. Rooney thought she had her number already but apparently she had a number that was as likely to be answered by Cate's assistant as by Cate herself. This was her 'proper' number. 

Rooney put her cell in her pocket and sat back in her chair, looking at the people in the pub. The place was packed but the group had bagged a big round table close to the bar so at least she could sit down; she was so tired. Alex smiled at her from the opposite side of the table "You ok?" she mouthed. Rooney nodded and smiled back at her. 

Rooney spent some time chatting to the girls sitting next to her about the Tate and some of the stuff she had seen. They did not have a clue who she was or what she did for a job and she liked that. She was just a friend of Alex from the States. After a while one of them got up to go to the bar and the other went outside for a smoke and Rooney found herself alone. A slightly sleazy guy had clocked her and worked his way around the table to sit next to her and he now leaned forward and rested his arm casually over the back of Rooney's chair moving in to talk to her. He had an irritating beard and was wittering on about how much he loved Scandi-Noir. He obviously did know who she was and was a Salander fan but Rooney did not want to talk about Fincher now. As a general rule, she found that she did not like revisiting her work, preferring to close the door on it and move on. Chewed up and spat out. She pretended not to hear him over the loud music and turned away, ostensibly to add something interesting to the conversation on the other side of her, when she was saved by a buzz in her pocket. "Excuse me, back in a sec" she muttered to the beardy guy as she stood up to go to the ladies and look at her cell. 

C: hey to you

Rooney smiled, as she shut the cubicle door behind her. She was inordinately happy that Cate had replied, she realised that she had been half expecting her not to. 

R: did the kids enjoy the Chinese New Year parade?

C: it was great, thanks for the suggestion

R: good, am pleased

C: did you have a nice afternoon with T?

R: yes, loved the Tate, had a fantastic lunch with a view. 

She was not going to say anything about her conversation with Todd. 'Complicated'. Well shit, who wasn't complicated? 

R: Am now in some hipster joint in Shoreditch

C: you're so damn edgy. Bothered much?

Cate knew how Rooney did not like to be recognised. She always dressed down and tried to hide herself, sunglasses, hats. Under the radar, the best way to fly.

R: nah, here with a bunch of people so it's ok. Invisible in a group

C: invisible is good

C: I can still smell you on my fingers

R: I can still feel your fingers on my skin

C: I want them to be on you again

Rooney wanted to ask but she did not want to seem pushy or desperate. Fuck it, she was desperate.

R: when can i see you?

They had not discussed it. They had not really done a lot of talking after Cate had told her about her kiss in Brighton all those years ago. Rooney had left in a hurry, the kids were on their way and Todd was calling her on her cell. They did not talk about what they had done, about what they would do from here. They had agreed to text and then kissed goodbye, heatedly, Cate pushing Rooney up against the door inside the hotel room. They had difficulty separating.

C: not sure, soon?

Rooney was rubbish at reading people from texts, did Cate want to see her? Was she keen? She was the one who had turned the conversation flirty, a little bit dirty... Rooney decided, uncharacteristically, to throw it all out there.

R: I can't wait until the Spirits, that's too long

C: me neither. How long are you in London?

Rooney sighed. She had some dull commitments while she was here, family friends that she had promised her parents she would visit before she was due to fly back to the States.

R: 2 more days, but I have family stuff on

C: can't do dinner?

R: maybe...

C: tomorrow or day after? Before you fly??

Rooney thought she might be able to do dinner the day after tomorrow, before she flew back if she made a few calls. The thought of not seeing Cate until the Independent Spirit Awards was not a pleasing one, although it was only a week or so away. She was desperate to see her, even if it was just for a few hours. She smiled, relieved at the knowledge that Cate clearly wanted to see her too.

R: I'll try, will let you know. I really want to

C: I really want you

R: am glad

Rooney smiled broadly in the cubicle. She was sitting on the toilet with the lid down a big, slightly foolish grin on her face. Despite all that had happened in the last 24 hours, she was amazed at the thought that Cate wanted her. Her mind was blown, truly.

C: I want to hear your voice

Rooney could hear some girls in the ladies outside her cubicle, she wanted to talk to Cate but knew they would be able hear her if she spoke,

R: I can't talk right now

C: Rooney - I want to hear you scream as I fuck you

R: well, this conversation has taken a turn...

C: I want to suck on your gorgeous tits as I slide my fingers inside you

R: You're making me blush 

C: baby I'll do more than just make you blush

There was a knock at the door "Just a minute..." Rooney called out as she unnecessarily flushed the toilet.

R: Cate, I have to go

C: I want you to say my name, over and over, as you cum...

R: stop it blanchett

C: can't. Don't want to

Rooney had left the ladies and was making her way back to the table. She could feel that her face was flushed and she could not stop grinning so she went over to the bar for a moment to get a drink and compose herself instead of sitting down. Alex saw her and came to stand next to her. "Everything alright Roons?" She asked. "Yes, fine." Rooney replied, trying to act casually although she was painfully aware that she was still blushing.

"Important phone call?" Alex nodded to Rooney's phone, still grasped firmly her slightly sweaty hand. 

"Oh no, you know, work."

"Mmm-hmm, right ho, if you say so." Alex smirked, clearly not believing a word of it and turned back to the table. 

C: Rooney?

R: X

Rooney stuffed her cell phone back in her pocket.

C: ok - bye X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone still reading? There's silence out there.... how do you feel this is going, are the characters realistic, does their dialogue feel genuine? Please comment - I write for your feedback. Thanks! ;) x


	23. February 2016: Journey to Tunbridge Wells

Rooney had made the calls. 

She was feeling really ill, yes - a bad time of year for it - she must have picked something up in London. The cold weather hadn't helped, no. Yes - she would take it easy tonight before the red eye to LA first thing. That's right, room service and an early night sounded perfect. Sure, she was bound to be in town again soon, after the Oscars and all had died down and she would love to have dinner with everyone then, yes. 

\----------

The train was packed with commuters waiting to leave Charing Cross and head for Tunbridge Wells. It had been Cate's idea of course, she had thought it might be fun for Rooney to get out of London for a few hours, on the train. Americans never used public transport. The women were less likely to be seen in deepest darkest Kent than in London and Cate knew a couple of places they could go. Rooney had suggested Brighton, but Cate had gently said no. Her family were there and besides, it was longer on the train so they would not have as much time together.

Rooney was not really enjoying her public transport adventure thus far. She had almost missed the train, running to the platform and jumping on as the doors beeped and closed but then they had sat on the platform for ten minutes not going anywhere. Rooney had walked through the train to find a place to sit and was now squashed against the window by a large man in a suit who was determined to spread himself over her seat as well as his own, while he ate his smelly Burger King. At least the smell of the burger masked the faint smell of pee coming from the toilet with a broken door at the end of the carriage. The heater must have been broken too because it was freezing, so she kept her big coat and Todd's beanie hat on. She also wore her glasses and a scarf, hiding from the people as well as the cold. She did not have to worry at all about being noticed though, there was no eye contact. Literally no one looked at her, everybody looked down at their Metro or their phone. Rooney waited for the train to depart and as she stared out of the window, watching the people on the platform, her mind turned to the evening ahead of her. 

She had still not decided what she was going to say to Cate. They had texted a few times during the day to make arrangements for this evening but there was none of the flirting that they had done in the messages of the night before. Cate's tone had become concise, succinct and Rooney lacked the confidence to initiate any of that kind of banter herself so they had just arranged a time and a place. They seemed to have taken a step backwards and become awkward. It made her unsure of what Cate wanted from her, if she even wanted anything at all. The brunette knew what she wanted though, at least on a basic level. Rooney knew, with absolute certainty, that she had never felt anything even close to what she had experienced with Cate physically. She had shocked herself with her desire for the older woman. She could not stop thinking about Cate's body, the way she felt under her hands, the way she moved, the way her hair fell, the smell of her neck, her skin at the base of her throat, how the inside of her wrist felt against her tongue. Rooney replayed the events of their time together in minute detail over and over again. Every touch, every kiss, every whisper, every orgasm. Rooney had never cum so many times in such a short period and she still wanted more. She had even masturbated this morning, thinking of Cate. She had woken from a dream of blonde hair and strong hands with a longing between her legs; her own hand made its way down, undirected by her conscious mind. She was cumming before she had even properly woken up.

The man next to her jolted Rooney out of her reverie as the train started and lurched forwards causing him to spill his freshly opened can of Stella all down his suit "Oh bollocks!" He shifted in his seat and shook the dripping beer off his hand. She pressed herself even closer to the window and looked out. The movement of the train was comforting and night was clear outside the window, Rooney could look up and see the stars above the London skyline. As they crossed the Thames and headed through the outskirts of the city, Rooney directed her gaze into the houses that they whizzed past, the backs of the Victorian terraces affording a fleeting peek into strangers' lives. People coming home from work, making dinner, talking, laughing, arguing in the kitchen; Rooney was fascinated. She knew that it was a glimpse into a kind of life she would never have. Not with Cate at least. She did not see how she could be a permanent part of Cate's life no matter how much she wanted to be and - deep down - Rooney could not deny that that was what she really, really wanted. She burned with the wanting of it. To be important, to _matter_ to Cate as much as Cate mattered to her. 

But on the train out of London on that cold and otherwise insignificant winter's night, Rooney resolved not to dwell on her deeper feelings. It seemed utterly pointless. Cate had confided in her about the state of her marriage but after that initial conversation she gave nothing away about how she was feeling. She had given Rooney no indication of what she wanted, other than that she clearly wanted sex. So Rooney would stick to that. She could be happy with that, she could resign herself to being 'an affair'. Despite what Cate had said to her in the hotel, that it was more than just sex, Rooney could not see how it could possibly be anything more. Cate had admitted that she had done it before, maybe not slept with a colleague but she had had affairs. The more Rooney thought about it, the more she wondered if Cate had told her what she wanted to hear and she was developing a sinking feeling that she might be just one in a line. 

The thought was unpalatable. Rooney shivered. She would enjoy seeing Cate tonight but she would not be a fool and she would protect herself.

\-----------

Cate's stomach was turning somersaults as she drove up the A26 towards Tunbridge Wells. She had come returned from London after the BAFTAs with her head full of Rooney. She had spent the afternoon with the children, watching the Chinese New Year parade, which was fun but she really could not enjoy herself properly. She was tired, physically and emotionally and wished she could have spent the afternoon alone really, but she had promised the kids some time and would not let them down. They all fell asleep in the car on the way home in the late afternoon. 

Cate had only spent a few hours in her husband's company between then and now. He did not ask if she had had a good time at the BAFTAs, if she was upset, if the others were OK with the continual disappointment. He largely stayed in his office and when he did come out his phone was always in his hand. When it beeped, which it did with regularity, he attended to it straight away. Andrew had never been a slave to his phone, he always derided those who were. Cate again wondered what was taking his attention.

She had spent today meeting with the decorator, going over some final bits and pieces for the house. The kids came too and enjoyed playing in their new rooms and exploring. It was nearly ready for them, the last elements were coming together and Cate could allow herself to be excited, at last, about moving in. She had been able to distract herself with it but still found that during any quiet moment, her thoughts had turned to Rooney. A cup of tea, a smoke outside, the worst was lying in bed last night, looking up at the ceiling listening to her sleeping husband, her mind was transported instantly to that night. To those beautiful green eyes.

Cate was sure that despite her efforts to show Rooney what she had meant to her, the younger woman had no idea. Cate had never been good at verbalising her feelings, especially if they involved vulnerability. She knew that, she had been criticised for it before. Oh, she could discuss a character's feelings and motivations all the live long day, but she totally clammed up when it came to dealing with her own emotions. Andrew had tried to get her to have therapy for it, when they were younger. He thought it had something to do with her father and she was sure it probably did but saw little point in discussing that. 

Her confessional in the bar with Rooney was way out of character, she did not know what had come over her. That was part of the attraction she had to the woman, Cate realised. The way she made her want to talk, to want to spill things out and just give herself to her. So she should find it easy to just open up and do it properly but something was holding her back. Probably the fact that she had no idea how to proceed with what she was feeling, what could come of it. A woman of action with absolutely no clue how to move forwards.

Cate had preferred actions to words all  
her life. That was perhaps part of what drew her to acting as a profession, she could explore and investigate herself through the lives and secrets and desires of others. In her personal life though, Cate would rather show people what they meant to her than tell them. She gave gifts, time, affection and warmth. On the flip side, she would build walls to defend herself and take steps and measures to avoid pain rather than express any fear of it. She supposed she saw the expression of emotion, of fear, as a weakness. She never wanted to be weak. 

Cate would be the first to acknowledge that she used sex as a tool, to get what she wanted. Well, not necessarily 'sex' (not these days anyway) but she knew how to use her looks, her natural charm and her physical presence. She knew that she had a magnetism, people wanted to be near her, they always had - men and women. She was very self aware and the knew affect she had on others. Cate enjoyed it, watching people revel in her attention, bask in her light. On occasion she had found herself verging on the brink of actually toying with someone, to see what kind of reaction she could tease out of them. She did not like that side of her personality and stopped when she realised what she was doing. It had happened more frequently in the last few years, coinciding with the increasing numbness - the detachment - that she had felt towards her own life.

That night in London though, Cate had felt the polar opposite of numb. She had felt so alive and realised how desperately she _wanted_ Rooney; she saw how the young woman reacted to her, how her reaction had changed over the months that they had been working together. Cate had absolutely not been provoking it this time but how could she avoid the fucking sparks? Sooner or later something would have happened between them, Cate was sure of it. She was so unhappy in her life and she realised that she had been looking for something, Rooney was right. And God, Cate had just wanted that girl, she was so beautiful, graceful, fucking young, like a soft and delicate unctuous thing that she just had to have. Cate had recognised early on, before the physical attraction, that she was drawn to the younger woman on an emotional level and she had not felt that sort of connection with anyone for such a long time, she missed it so much. Combine that with the dawning realisation that she wanted to rip Rooney's clothes off and just possess her and she had leapt in. Consequences be damned; feet first. Cate had given in to her desires and it had felt wonderful. Absolutely fucking wonderful. 

And so her stomach churned as she drove north, knowing that she needed to work out how to reconcile all of this, how to bring the spark, the feeling back into her life, clearly needing the dark haired woman in order to do so.

\-------

Cate had booked herself into an hotel in Tunbridge Wells for the night. She knew that Rooney could not stay with her because she had an early flight from Heathrow, but Cate wanted to enjoy the evening and have a drink. Besides there was a gorgeous little tile shop on the Pantiles that she had wanted to visit in the morning.

Andrew and the kids just knew that she was on 'a house mission' and meeting some old friends in Tunbridge Wells. This was not uncommon and they did not question this explanation. Andrew did not seem bothered either way. When she kissed him on the cheek as she picked up the keys to her Mini from the coffee table next to him, he barely looked up from his paper; offering her his cheek without tearing his eyes away from the article.

She enjoyed staying at this hotel, it was a lovely old building with wonderful gardens and right in the middle of town. She had used them many times before. They were always very discrete and had made sure, even at this short notice, that her favourite suite was available. Cate arrived an hour or so before Rooney's train was due in. She showered sat down at her dressing table, drying her hair to hang naturally to her shoulders with a centre parting and applying the bare minimum of makeup. She got dressed quickly, having received a text

_nearly there, at Tonbridge_

Simple black trousers, a snug black shirt (three buttons undone, always, always wear a really good bra) and her trusty Armani suit jacket with satin lapels. She put on a gold bar pendant and her ox blood pistol boots. Cate surveyed herself in the full length mirror. _A lot of black_ she thought. But then, what the hell. She looked good in black. She looked herself in the eye in the mirror and took a deep breath. 

Cate grabbed her long grey woollen overcoat and left the room. It was a short stroll down hill to the station and she walked quickly, rounding over the bridge to the back entrance where she had told Rooney to go once she got off the train. Cate waited in the shadows opposite the exit, huddled in the shelter of an arched window of the empty supermarket building. She wondered when it had closed down, last time she was here it was going to be a Waitrose...

Cate's eyes remained focused on the station exit. She heard the train pull in, the doors open and the announcer proclaim its arrival. Commuters poured out of the exit, a silent sea of grey and black. The tall blonde woman waited for the throng to dispel, bustling past her going off to the car park, getting into taxis or into waiting cars to be greeted by husbands and wives. When most of the people had dispersed she spotted Rooney, a solitary figure illuminated under the bright lights of the station. Such a small person. She looked cute in her beanie hat and big coat; Cate could not resist.

Walking out of the shadows towards her, she caught Rooney's eye,

"I like the hat." Cate pointed up to her own head making a circular motion.

"Fuck off," laughed Rooney.

Cate held her arms out wide, holding her coat open for Rooney to step into. The women hugged tightly, their bodies pressed together as close as they could be. 

"Gotcha." said Cate, closing her eyes.

No one noticed them, they were just friends greeting one another from the train. If anyone had remained to watch them, they would have noticed that they embraced for a long time, maybe too long to be just friends.

"It's good to see you" replied Rooney, her voice muffled by Cate's big coat.

"Always" said Cate.

"I missed you" ventured Rooney.

"It hasn't even been 48 hours." Cate smiled and pulled back. "And I missed you too." She stepped away from Rooney. 

"Now let's get to the pub, it is cold. Come on." Cate held out her arm and Rooney put hers through it. The two women walked off into the night.

\------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments on the previous chapter - you are still with me! Phew. 
> 
> I'm afraid I'm going to slow down with posting because my job gets crazy in the summer and the story is also getting to a difficult point. It's becoming harder for me to write it. I will keep going though so please stay with me (and don't stop commenting;)) I hope you enjoy...


	24. February 2016: Tunbridge Wells (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst warning
> 
> I know I said that I would be updating slower but I had to get this chapter out there. This was so hard to write that if I didn't publish it I'd be going back over it forever. I might still have to take it away and redo some parts at some point. Anyway enjoy (if that's the right word)

"It's like a Hobbit pub isn't it? It's got a really nice garden as well. There are some houses built into the rock in Tunbridge Wells too you know," explained Cate as they took their seats in the pub which they had walked up to from the station. They had walked briskly, it was cold but the pub was uphill and Rooney's cheeks were flushed when they entered. She had to practically run to keep up with Cate's long stride, the woman was so darn so tall. They walked through some woods and Rooney was surprised when they came out onto a smart street of Georgian terraces and then ducked into trees again before they reached the pub.

"It's sandstone, there are big chunks of it all over this top part of town. You can go and visit a big outcrop a few miles away and climb them and stuff, the Victorians loved it there. There's a steam railway that goes past, I went with the boys once. There's some fascinating graffiti you know, actually on the rocks. Hundreds of years old. And there are some big flat rocks out behind us by the cricket green, it's lovely for a picnic."

Rooney smiled, Cate had been taking non stop since they came into the pub, she seemed nervous which was unexpected. Usually she was so confident, more often overly so. Rooney had been watching her, letting her talk. She looked fantastic all in black and she smelt so good, as always. Rooney struggled to keep her eyes looking upwards after Cate took of her coat. She could not understand why everyone was not staring. The woman had a downright amazing cleavage in that shirt. Her blonde hair hung onto her shoulders, accentuating those justifiably famous cheekbones. Her mouth was wide and her lips had the faintest smudge of colour on them, Rooney thought that she should be used to looking at her by now - especially as she had seen literally _all_ of her - but she was not, every time was a revelation. The woman was a goddess. When not distracted by her cleavage, she could lose hours simply staring into Cate's face. 

"I love it" said Rooney joining in the conversation, she had to say something to distract herself from gawping at Cate like a lovestruck teenager, it could get embarrassing. She cleared her throat "It is not what I was expecting."

Rooney took in her surroundings. The pub Cate had brought them to was partially built into the rock so their little table was actually in a cave that was incorporated into the bar room. The walls were damp and blackened from bygone years of smoking. The lighting was very dim - a candle burned on the table between them, it was certainly very cosy if a little weird. The rest of the horseshoe shaped bar was all wood and brass, a traditional pub and the place had a lovely atmosphere. Rooney had expected somewhere a bit more sophisticated, but she liked it, it was intimate. It was not very busy being a week night and the only other patrons sat at the bar itself, guffaws of laughter regularly erupting from their group. The two women had the little cave all to themselves.

Rooney had pretty much downed her drink before they had even sat down. It was a proper drink, a double in fact, Cate had raised her eyebrow but not said anything when she ordered it. Rooney felt like she needed the courage tonight. Their table was small and their hands almost touched across it. Their conversation paused and Cate looked at Rooney. Her hair was gorgeous tonight she thought, shining like mahogany in the dim light showing off her flawless complexion. Her green eyes were nervous, flitting around the cave, her pupils almost black because of the dim lighting. 

Cate took a sip of her red wine, enjoying the sensation as she swirled it on her tongue and then swallowed. It felt good. She and did not have to stretch to place one of her fingers lightly onto Rooney's hand. "I feel like we didn't talk. After...". She touched the younger woman gingerly, lightly stroking her, taking a breath in and letting it out as she spoke "you know, the other morning."

"Well that's because we didn't talk. Not much," said Rooney, she was looking down at Cate's fingers "it felt like other things were more - I don't know - more important." She was not being smutty, it was true. Both of them had felt it.

"Important." Cate nodded slowly, agreeing, stroking. "Yes, it did didn't it?" She looked at Rooney searchingly. As if trying to decide whether to tell her something, but it was Rooney who spoke first, not meeting Cate's eye, instead inhaling deeply and looking over the other woman's head, trying to control her voice. Rooney spoke softly and slowly. 

"I've never felt anything like that Cate, never. I've never felt such an intense desire to be with someone. Not with Charlie, or any man. Or woman for that matter." _Why did I tell her that? Let her do the talking..._

She turned her eyes back down to Cate, willing her to speak. Cate just held her gaze, Rooney could have sworn those blue grey eyes were giving off sparks, like a flint in the dim light, there was a hint of a smile playing around her mouth, her fingers were still lightly on Rooney's hand. She was utterly beautiful, Rooney felt like she was being hypnotised. _Fuck._

The brunette suddenly pulled her hand away and leant back in her chair. Putting both hands to her face she rubbed them into her hair and scrunched up her eyes, covering them for a few seconds before putting her hands flat, spread on the table. The brunette looked at her hands intently, her arms stretched holding herself at a distance from Cate. She kept her eyes down, looking at her hands. Rooney's determination to protect herself crumbled, she had to speak, she had to let Cate know how she felt _if not now..._

"I've been thinking about it, pretty much constantly actually and I realised that I wanted you from the first time I met you, since Santa Barbara. I didn't know it then, I was such a fangirl. But I can see now that it was more than that." She looked up at Cate now for a reaction. Nothing, just blue grey, although the smile had faded. Rooney took a deep breath and held her eye. 

"Shit, I've idolised you for my whole adult life - all of that was true, Cate, all of it. Do you know what that's like? I couldn't believe it when they asked me to present that award to you. I'm amazed I got through it, I barely did. That was the most terrifying, the most completely exposing thing that I'd ever done - until Carol. I told you before, I walked through the entire shoot like a dream. It was, it was my dream, the stuff of fucking dreams. I didn't want to think about what would happen when I woke up and was just Rooney Mara again and not Therese Belivet." Rooney's eyes were wide and wild.

"When you told me about that girl in Brighton and you asked me if I'd ever wanted to 'know' someone like that - well that's exactly how I felt with you Cate, exactly. Like I'd known you from somewhere, before, long before, and I just had to know you again. It sounds fucking ridiculous now I say it but I'm so drawn to you." Rooney shrugged her shoulders, moving her hands onto her lap. "Lots of people are though aren't they?" No reaction. Rooney started speaking more urgently, words tumbling out of her. This felt like the most she had spoken in her whole life, nothing had been as important before.

"Then after Cannes I felt I saw a different side to you, more relaxed, more real, I thought anyway, and it got worse because the more time I spent with you the more I felt, I don't know, fucking _propelled_ towards you. I loved it when you were close to me, talked to me, touched me, when you put your arm around me. When you looked at me and we were photographed together, asked my opinion, the banter that we shared; I had to control myself, to be careful when I was talking about you because I was giving myself away. It was easy, so goddamned easy to fall in love, Cate."

Rooney's voice broke on the last two words, her green eyes flashed in the dark. The group at the bar laughed loudly, making both women start. Rooney's eyes darted over to them and then snapped back to Cate. She had put it all out there, laid herself bare, exposed again. She had not meant to, she just could not stop. She was breathing heavily, her eyes were filling with tears, liquid sparkling in the candle light.

"Rooney..."

"No, no." She put up her hands, "Cate I need to finish - after the BFI when we talked, after the Globes when I told you about Charlie. I don't know, I began to think maybe you felt something for me too? I didn't dare to believe it though. But then the other night - and then the morning - fuck." A single tear tracked down Rooney's cheek. "Really. I've never had anything so good, so beautiful."

"Rooney," Cate wanted to speak now, "about our time together, after the BAFTAs, I feel the same way. It was... spectacular. Please don't think that that was 'normal' for me, it was far far from that. Anything I say will sound trite, I'm not sure I can make you understand, I don't have the words. I'm not very good at expressing myself like this, off the cuff, when I don't have a script," she gave a nervous laugh. "And I do, of course I do, have feelings for you. But Rooney, you need to give me some time." 

Cate had been listening to Rooney opening her heart to her, all the time she had been aware of a sinking feeling in her chest. This was not what she had planned for tonight, she was supposed to tell Rooney how she felt, what was in her heart but she realised that she had been fucking delusional thinking she could have it all. What did it matter what was in her heart - she could not have it. How on earth could she have Rooney and keep her children and her career? And what about Rooney and what she really wanted? She was so young, she would not want the burden of a family that was not hers and her career was just coming to its prime. There was no way it would progress on the same trajectory if she came out, let alone if she came out as The Woman Who Ruined Cate Blanchett's Marriage and that is what she would be. She would be vilified in the press. Their industry was as homophobic as the next, despite anything anyone said to the contrary. Cate was starting to sweat, her heart was thumping and she could not catch her breath as she realised how naive, how fucking foolish she had been. 

"You have to give me time, to work all of this out. Believe me when I say that I do - care - for you, deeply Rooney." Cate reached again for the younger woman's hand across the table, she could a look of resignation setting in to Rooney's face, the brunette's mouth twitched at the corners. "No, no Rooney, no don't look at me like that..."

"But how can anything come of this Cate really? If I give you time, how will this end differently?" Rooney was exasperated, desperate her voice cracking with emotion "I need to know what you're thinking because if this is going to lead to my, my fucking heartbreak... well. I'd like to prepare myself."

"I don't know, I don't know." Cate shook her head. "It's just so ... complicated," Her voice was small.

"Shit, there it is." Rooney pulled her hand away and leant back again, putting her hands to her temples. "Shit. What the fuck am I doing."

"What feels right?" Said Cate, her eyes were searching Rooney's. "This is what feels right to me, _now_. This - you, me." She put her hand to her chest, "I don't know about the future Rooney, I've never been very good at considering the future. I can't give you the answers or the solutions you need, I know it's what you deserve but I can't. Not now, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Cate shook her head. She was leaning forward in her seat now, imploring, "But you need to know that this is not a game to me. _I do not want to break your heart,_ " her emphasis was on the last sentence. 

It was Cate's turn to look down at the table now, she breathed deeply and braced herself. Faced with Rooney's complete and almost disarming honesty, it was clear to her now just how totally impossible the situation actually was. No matter how much Cate wanted it to be simple, no matter how straightforward her feelings were. Life was not straightforward. She shook her head slowly, feeling tears pricking at her own eyes she would not cry damnit, she would not cry. 

Rooney was watching her intently and she could see it then. As the blonde looked at her, right into the core of her, Rooney could see it in her eyes. In this moment, perhaps for the first time, Cate was being completely honest.

"I don't want to break your heart Rooney, but I'm afraid that I might."

The younger woman could not speak, she just stared at her. She nodded slowly, green eyes staring into blue, electricity crackling between them. The single crystalline drop on Rooney's cheek had been joined by more as Cate spoke. She raised her hand to wipe them and then closed her eyes, more tears flowing now, soundlessly streaking down her cheeks. She got up from the table and grabbed her coat from the back of her chair, pulling it on as she strode to the door and pushed it open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - Rooney's out in the cold again. This chapter is set in another real place (Cate's hotel is real too) - does anyone hang out in TWells? Let me know if you recognise it ;)
> 
> Also - Thanks to each and every person who's commented so far, it really means so much. Please do leave a comment, express yourself and let me know what you're thinking - if you're an anon or a regular I love to hear your views. Thank you! :) x


	25. February 2016: Tunbridge Wells (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short bridge chapter

Cate followed Rooney out of the pub and into the cold night. She did not call out - she did not want anyone to hear - so she just followed, cursing under her breath. She had not anticipated this turn of events but hearing Rooney speak so openly had forced her to confront truths that she had been pushing away. Now that they had surfaced, right here bobbing up and down in front of her, Cate knew she had to deal with them. A tight knot of dread was forming in the pit of her stomach, as she realised what she had to do.

The younger woman had not gone far, she was standing underneath the solitary old fashioned lamppost that lit the small car park. Rooney's shoulders were hunched and heaving, her face was cradled in her palms and she was illuminated, for the second time that evening, in a pool of golden light. 

Cate's heart thumped as she walked to her and put her arms around her, holding her tightly and swaying. She was silent for a few moments just enjoying to hold Rooney, even though she was upset. Cate wished that she could stay right here. After a few moments though, the blonde began to talk, all the time with her arms wrapped tightly around the smaller woman. Her deep voice was soft and soothing, her cheek against the Rooney's dark hair, her eyes closed. It was as though they were about to dance in the lamplight. 

"Rooney, you think you love me but I'm not real - I'm hardly a real person anymore. You love the image of me that you have, the image that I've shown you. The actress, the artist, the stories, the glamour and the spiel. It's a little bit of Carol Aird, a tiny bit of Sheba Hart, a touch of Tracy Heart, Jasmine French, it's not real baby. It's not me, that's not Cate Blanchett. I'm a much much smaller, duller person hiding in the gaps." Cate sighed, "Christ, my life is not what it seems to be from the outside." She was almost talking to herself now, "I have been married for almost 20 years, that's a fucking long time. I have 4 children, 2 dogs, 5 houses, some cats I think. I live mainly out of a large, big suitcase. I have a brother and sister who I argue with and don't see enough of and an elderly mother who I worry about." She was still swaying, stroking Rooney's head now as the words tumbled out. Rooney had slipped her arms around the taller woman's waist, inside her coat and jacket. 

"I hate mornings, I need to wear a fuck load of makeup to look human. I smoke too much and then lose my voice all the time and I never learn. I have a dodgy ankle on my right, and my knees click like a reindeer's. I'm annoyingly competitive, I once got really pissed in a drinking contest and threw up on Kate Winslet's shoes." Rooney sniffed and chuckled and Cate smiled, "Luckily she is a very kind and forgiving person. I'm useless at keeping in touch with people, consequently I have hardly any friends. I am no good at sitting still and enjoying the moment. I quote poetry - Hardy mainly - when I get really drunk and that is really fucking irritating and I sound like a knob. I seem to get drunk a lot at the moment when I'm not working, because my life feels quite lonely, despite my children. I adore my children. I can be a bully and pig headed and horribly, horribly selfish. I'm terrified that my lifestyle has been bad for my kids, that they'll grow up unhappy and resentful but I can't stop moving and trying to change - shit." Cate pulled away and pushed Rooney's shoulders back so she could look into the other woman's face. Her lips rose into a sad smile as she cradled Rooney's face In her hand, wiping her tears from her cheek with her thumb. 

"You don't know me and all of my boring responsibilities and worries and pressures. You don't need that in your life Rooney. If we were regular people who worked together you would not look at me twice. Barely once. Inside all of this, in the spaces in between the amazing job and the witty retorts and the fucking stylist I'm a bit of a dull middle aged woman with emotional hangups and a lot of baggage. No matter what I try to be, what I try to project. You don't need to make that your life on the basis of one night..."

"No, no" Rooney looked up at her, her cheeks were blotchy her eyes puffy from crying. "You don't get to choose what I want and what I need Cate. Come on I am not that fucking naive, that is not what this is about. All of those bullshit things are what people discover about each other over time, not what is declared from the off as reasons not to be involved in each other's lives. It's my own free choice to -"

Cate shook her head emphatically "I can see it now Rooney, I took advantage of you. I didn't mean to, really, but I did. I shouldn't have spoken to you about my marriage, burdened you with my problems. I was unhappy and I was selfish and unfair and it gave you the wrong idea - "

"Really? Oh really?" Rooney stepped back from her, her voice was getting louder, "You said you wanted me Cate, remember? You wanted to touch me, _needed_ me, you didn't back out and I gave you that opportunity. Are you telling me that that was you giving me the wrong fucking idea?"

"No, no of course not. The wrong idea about _me_ and what _I_ could give you Rooney, not the wrong idea about how much I wanted you. About how much I want you."

"I don't want to force anything on you Cate, but I want you to make a choice for _you_ , based on what _you_ need and what _you_ want - I don't want you to project on to me and say you won't take the leap because it's not what I need. That's not fair, I'm a big girl and I can decide who I fall in -". 

"Shhhh - don't say it Rooney, don't," Cate reached out to put her fingertips on Rooney's lips but the shorter woman pushed past them and brought both hands up to Cate's face and pressed the length of her body against her, pulling the taller woman's lips to hers and crushing them against her own. The air was freezing against their faces but their lips were molten against each other. The brunette could feel Cate's hands sliding underneath her coat to the small of her back pressing them together. Rooney pushed against Cate's mouth, breathing heavily and driving her hands into Cate's hair to pull her as close as possible. The blonde reciprocated fully, her kiss was hard, pleading and apologising, asking and giving, wanting and taking. Rooney could taste Cate's salty tear as she sucked and bit and licked at Cate's lips and tongue, her head was spinning she was moaning, desperate to show her - what? To show her that she did not care about the past, about the risks, that this was worth it. That she was worth it.

There was a loud bang as the group of people from inside the pub burst out through the door and slammed it back. One of them was stumbling and supported by the others and they were laughing loudly. Cate and Rooney stepped back from each other instinctively. 

"This is about you not being sure that I am worth the risk Cate." Her voice was quiet but firm and her eyes glinted with determination. "You have a whole lot to lose, I'm not stupid. It's a massive ask for you to do anything, anything at all, with me. You don't know if I'm worth it and you don't know if you can trust me. But you can. Know that I am here and I will wait and I will be worth it." Rooney's face was flushed from their kiss, the cold, the vodka, her anger at Cate. 

The drunk people were staggering towards them. "Come on" said Cate "its stupid to talk about this here, outside in the cold. Let's go back to my hotel, it's not far and we can get room service and talk some more." 

Rooney nodded, "OK" she pulled her coat around her and this time did not take the arm that Cate offered but strode off alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this has taken longer than usual. I am finding this part of the story soooo hard to write. I hope you're still enjoying it - it's turning out to be quite a bit longer than I anticipated when I started waybackwhen in May, so I really humbly thank everyone who is still here!! We'll all be old ladies by the time I'm finished (especially when I get distracted by one shots...). 
> 
> Still I could write about these 2 forever - there's a lot of mileage to them, I hope you agree. I'm rambling - I'll go. Thank you so much for reading - please comment, I won't beg (kidding - I will beg, I am begging)  
> Xx  
> :)


	26. February 2016: Tunbridge Wells (3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi - are you having a good summer? Sorry, this has taken a while - I've been busy. And it's just a short one. Hope you enjoy nonetheless...

Rooney could feel the wine going to her head. She relaxed and enjoyed the sensation, knowing that she should not allow herself to become removed from what was happening, from where she was, but allowing it to happen nonetheless. She could feel herself sinking, falling, as though she was an observer, looking at herself from a distance. It was a state on mind she recognised - although not usually encouraged by alcohol - she had often felt like an observer to her own life. She knew now though that she should keep her wits about her and stay clear headed. _Fuckit_ too late for that.

It was a short, brisk walk to the hotel. They did not speak, both women were lost to their own thoughts. Cate had ordered some pasta and wine from the restaurant menu to be brought to the room. While they waited for their food, Cate had to take a phone call from one of her kids and Rooney helped herself to a drink from the bar. Followed by another, it was a long phone call. 

Rooney chastised herself for revealing so much to Cate earlier. She had known that Cate would not be able to give herself to her, that she should not expect even the smallest part of her heart. She felt stupid for even imagining for a second that they could have anything resembling a 'relationship' but when she was face to face with Cate, Rooney just could not help it. She wanted her, as crazy as this whole escapade was, and she wanted to be part of Cate's life. Rooney sighed deeply, she had said it now; told her she would wait, that she would be patient.

Cate came off the phone and the women ate at the small table in silence, Rooney drank more red wine than she ate pasta whilst Cate barely touched hers. The tension between them was almost solid in the air.

"I meant it. I will wait," Rooney said it out loud, she was fingering the stem of her wineglass, staring at it with wide eyes.

"I can't ask you to -"

"You're not asking me to." She looked up at Cate.

"Rooney,"

"I don't care Cate, I don't care about any of what you said back there. I want to find out who you are because you're a different person to me than you are to anyone else, even to yourself. I know how I feel when I'm with you and I've never felt that before. Never and I'm not prepared to let that go. I have to find out, to see where it leads. So I'll wait. You decide Cate. Decide if you want me."

"Of course I fucking _want_ you Rooney, that is not the issue here." Cate reached across the table to her, taking the smaller woman's hand in her own. Rooney looked down. Cate's sleeves were rolled up part way, showing her bare forearms. Rooney turned her hand exposing the pale underside of Cate's arm and she traced her feather tattoo lightly with her finger, moving to her wrist, running her thumb across it feeling all of the delicate bumps and ridges of the veins and tendons under her skin. Rooney lifted Cate's wrist to her mouth, brushing it so lightly with her lips - barely touching. Cate watched through hooded eyes as Rooney moved her mouth over that softest of places, breathing on her, feeling her with her lips, darting out her tongue to taste. Cate closed her eyes and dropped her head. The touch felt like sunlight on her skin sending fizzes of electricity up her arm to her chest, crumbling her resolve. 

"I want to know you Cate." Rooney was whispering, "Let me in." 

Cate's expression was weary, "I want that too Rooney, God knows I want to so much but -"

"Listen," Rooney held Cate's hand in her lap. She was feeling very lightheaded now, she had had far too much to drink. It made her feel dangerous, reckless... "let's wait. Let's do what we both seem good at and not confront it. Not talk about it, not deal with it whatever 'it' is, until we've both had time to breathe. We're in a fucking pressure cooker right now, the Oscars are a few days away we won't have a chance to talk or be together before then anyway. Let's just wait for a couple of weeks or a month or whatever and then we can see where we're at. Just as long as I know there's a chance, even a tiny chance of something, anything."

Cate looked at her and leant forward placing both of her hands on Rooney's knees. "It's avoiding everything. Avoiding all of the difficult decisions, conversations, confrontations..."

"No, no it's not, it's postponing them until we can actually think properly. It's not avoiding anything - it's being on the brink of something. Heartbreak, passion, lust, love...". Rooney reached to Cate's face and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Isn't that the best part Cate? Being on the edge of something? The breath before you dive? The sensation before you fall?" Rooney smiled, she was having trouble focussing. Cate's hands gripped her knees tightly, Rooney leant in to her and kissed her lips softly, Cate did not move so Rooney did it again holding the blonde's face in her hands and shifting to the edge of her seat. _This is fucking stupid,_ Rooney thought, but as Cate started to kiss her back she was lost.

\--------

"We should stop, your car will be here soon..."

"No, I don't wanna stop, we won't be together again for a while, this might be the last time - "

Rooney's tongue on her lips, Rooney's fingers in her hair, tracing down her neck to her chest, fingering the collar of her shirt, following the edge to the buttons, opening them up.

"You've had too much to drink..."

"No, I haven't, I've had exactly the right amount."

Rooney's tongue in her mouth, long and slow, deep and hot. Rooney's lips pressing into hers, hard. Her breath unsteady, uneven. The sound of Rooney's moan, the feel of her teeth against her neck.

"Rooney, this is crazy - "

The sight of Rooney standing up from the chair and turning away, standing by the bed, lifting her sweater over her head. Rooney's perfect, alabaster back, no bra, glancing at her over her shoulder. Rooney kicking off her shoes, undoing her jeans, pushing them down, inch by inch, over her hips...

Cate reaches for the phone.

"My friend has a car coming to take her to Heathrow. Yes, that's right, 11:30. She won't be needing it anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill - talk to me so I don't feel lonely and then maybe you'll get the next chapter quicker..... ;)


	27. 28th February 2016: after the Independent Spirit Awards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next are dedicated to a friend who loves CB in a suit. MD - I hope you enjoy.
> 
> This is a total - and I mean total - departure in style. You may not like it... but I'm going to do it. I have been itching to try out first person narrative (inspired by another - who will hopefully read this and take it as the flattery it's intended to be ;) and this seemed like an appropriate place. 
> 
> Please do read the notes - I have more to say...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Search on the Interweb for "Cate Armani Revenant". Ok, see that picture of CB in her blue Armani suit? You can't miss it. Take a good long look.

I only turned on one small lamp way over in the corner of the room. I didn't want it to be too bright, my head was pounding and my eyes were dry and sore from all the lights and from just being awake for so long today. Still, I had enjoyed the Independent Spirit Awards despite the fact that I didn't have the chance to even talk properly to Cate, let alone spend time alone with her. As I'd left the awards (earlier than everyone else because I had another function to attend), she had caught up with me in the parking lot and said that she wanted to see me, at some point before tomorrow. A guy on his phone in the lot had spooked her, she thought he was taking photos, so we parted quickly and didn't get to arrange anything or say goodbye properly. I had two more events back to back and she had to represent at Armani so we both knew, realistically, that seeing each other again tonight would be impossible. It looked like we were going to have to wait until after the Oscars as we'd agreed before in Tunbridge Wells. We hadn't talked, we had agreed to just wait. We were teetering on the brink. 

Charlie had come along to the Spirits and it was actually good to see him. He and I had arranged ages ago that he would come and although we had split up, we hadn't publicised it so no one else knew. We are still real friends and it suited both of us for the time being, to pretend. Cate didn't seem to mind - I had told her about it beforehand, well texted her as that was the only way we had been able to communicate, and she said she understood. Anyway, as I said, the Spirits were fun - Cate had played right up during our presentation, she didn't give a shit anymore. Only those of us who really knew her could see how disappointed she was, about the lack of recognition I mean. I felt her hand against mine under the dias a few times and when she said "love is love", I could tell that she was making an effort to hold her voice steady. I was so proud of her then, that speech had been so hard for her. I should have told her but I didn't really get the chance.

It was fair to say that all of us were over the awards season now, we'd come to terms with the fact that Carol had just been blackballed or something. Todd seemed at ease with it (I had avoided him really, since London to be honest), Cate was still pissed but despite that, or because of it, she had been on a different level tonight; really on her A-game. She was saying _fuck you_ and showing them what a star she truly was. Watching her was like witnessing an ethereal being walk amongst mortals tonight, honestly, everyone around her could feel it, like it was coming off her in waves.

She was captivating, the way she looked, the way she moved, the way she spoke. People were literally clamouring to be near her but through it all she kept catching my eye, a wink, a smile across the room, that look. I could not believe how lucky I was; I knew what she was thinking when she looked at me like that, over her glass, around someone else's face from the corner of her eye. She might have been talking to them but she was thinking about me. As well as doing all manner of things to me with her eyes she also totally knew how to touch me while we were in plain sight. We were both used to physical contact of course, being photographed together all the time but now there was an extra dimension; the secret that we shared. 

I knew Cate would love my dress tonight, the back of it was barely there leaving a lot of my skin exposed. I was totally right, she couldn't resist lightly placing her fingers on my waist and stroking her thumb up and down, her featherlight touch sneaking around to my ribs, gliding on my skin, almost right round to my stomach - the side of my breast. Almost... I couldn't breathe when she did that. When she took her hand away, after the photographer had gone, it was a slow drag along my skin, fingernails lightly scratching leaving a burning line on me while her hip stayed pressed into mine. Her smile was feline.

My other events were dull in comparison without the shine of Cate. My dad had come to the last one, the Weinstein do, he loved that kind of thing and had had a fine time. He was proud of me I think, he rarely said it. I had left him just now, in the bar downstairs drinking scotch and smoking cigars, or rather just posturing with cigars, with his cronies. Now I'd come upstairs to my suite, turned on the little light and taken off my jacket and gone over to get a bottle of water from the fridge. The clock on the side said it was just after 2am, not too bad. Tomorrow was going to be a killer but I didn't need to be up early so it was ok.

I was untying my shoelaces when there was a sharp tap at the door, probably dad wanting a drink with me now that his pals had deserted him and gone to bed. Smiling and kicking off my shoes I went to the door barefoot, "No, no, no, I told you daddy," I said opening it "I don't want any more to drink,"

I stopped dead and I think I may have opened my mouth and actually gasped.

_HolymotherofGod_

There were no words in my vocabulary for her, none. Blasphemy didn't come close but it was the best I could do. She replied immediately, quick as a whip, "It's ok baby, I don't need any more to drink tonight," her voice was like silk dipped in warm honey and then brushed over my naked skin, so smooth and deep and soft and, oh my, the way she looked at me... "I've had exactly the right amount."

I closed my mouth and swallowed, realising that I was staring. Cate shrugged her shoulders, standing there in the corridor, she knew full well how absolutely fabulous she looked. She took a deep breath, "Well, are you going to ask me in?"

I opened the door wider and stepped aside. "Cate, shit, that suit... you... I.... Damn... you look incredible, like some kind of sea god."

She walked into the room,

"I, I'll follow,  
I'll follow you,  
deep sea baby,  
I'll follow you...." 

she sang soft and low, smiling as she walked into the middle of the room. I just turned and followed her with my eyes, my power of speech had up and left. Closing the door, I leant back against it and looked at her properly, drinking her in. I was parched it seemed. 

Her suit was royal blue shot silk, the colour of sea glass. It had to have been made just for her, it fit like a second skin and man, it shimmered. The pants were tight across her hips and exactly the right length, stopping at the arch of her feet. She wore plain black, high, simple shoes - cut low on her foot - so fucking elegant. The shoes lengthened her outline, making her legs seem impossibly long and sleek. The suit jacket skimmed her perfect ass wonderfully, accentuating her curves, cinched in with a little chain at the waist. She had a crisp white shirt tucked in underneath with just the right number of buttons undone. The curve of her breasts was clear under the jacket. I could see a hint of cleavage, her perfect collar bones and suprasternal notch were framed in the black lapels of the jacket and the V of her shirt, her chest looked like it was made of bone china.

She was so feminine yet so fucking _handsome_ \- the combination was blowing my mind. No one should look this good, it should be illegal; it certainly wasn't human.

She was standing there like a supermodel; she knew just how to hold herself for maximum effect - to show herself off. She was so confident, she exuded it. Cate stood there in the middle of my room facing me, she had come to find me and she wasn't ashamed or at all embarrassed of how good she looked. She knew exactly what she was doing to me and for me. She totally knew that I was appraising her and she was enjoying it. One hip jutted forwards, leg slightly bent, foot at an angle, one hand in her pocket with her thumb hooked outside in a way that I found ridiculously sexy, I have no idea why. 

"Come here Rooney" she tilted her chin up as she spoke, beckoning me towards her. Immediately I crossed the room to her and reached out my arms, desperate to touch her "No no. Hands off." She shook her head lightly, her voice was deep, barely a whisper but absolutely authoritative. I stopped in my tracks about a foot away from her. She didn't touch me either and it was almost painful to be this close to her, looking that good, and not to be touching. I could feel myself leaning towards her and had to actually hold myself back, consciously. There was a palpable heat flowing between us. Her eyes were dark and hooded, her hair was still in the same style as earlier today, the way I loved, hanging down on her shoulders, wavy. I knew what it would feel like in my hand, against my cheek, dragging like glorious golden seaweed against my thigh...

"Are we still on the edge baby?" Cate was still whispering. Her head was held high, she was looking down on me. 

I nodded, "yes" I whispered back.

"And you're sure this is what you want? You're sure? I can stop, we can wait..."

"Oh no" - there was no fucking way - "no, I don't think so."

"Thank God." A hint of a smile, "Now, take off those trousers". 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - what did you think? I enjoyed writing it. I know, I know it really doesn't fit with the style of the story and I'm sorry. 
> 
> I know some of you were expecting to see more of the night in the hotel in TWells, well I wanted to leave that night there - the characters need to have one night where we don't see what happens. There has to be a little mystery. Also I chose not to dwell on the (in)famous boob grab of the ISAwards - it's been done and I have nothing original to add. I felt that this chapter should show us more behind the glamour - whilst revelling in the glamour of course.
> 
> Now I'll confess - there's a part 2 to this chapter and it's coming soon. I decided to be cruel and split a large chapter into two. I do like to keep you hanging.
> 
> As always please comment and let me know what you think - on this if no other chapter. Thanks all 
> 
> MM


	28. 28th February 2016: After the Independent Spirit Awards (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful readers. 
> 
> You need to have this all fresh in your mind so please go back and re-read the last chapter. Go on, I'll wait.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm waiting.
> 
>  
> 
> It's ok - take your time.
> 
>  
> 
> Ready?
> 
> NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not joking about NSFW, things get intimate. If you're not a fan of that then scan down but please do read the end because the words (their words and mine) are important...

"Are we still on the edge baby?" Cate was still whispering. Her head was held high, she was looking down on me. 

I nodded, "Yes" I whispered back.

"And you're sure this is what you want? You're sure? I can stop, we can wait..."

"Oh no" - there was no fucking way - "no, I don't think so."

"Thank God." A hint of a smile, "Now, take off those trousers". 

She hadn't even finished the word, I fumbled with the button and pushed them to the ground stepping out of them and kicking them aside. I had been wearing a tux too tonight, a plain black one with a t-shirt on underneath not even close to Cate's league. The t-shirt was all that remained now. I reached for her again, "No, Rooney." She was firm. Cate took a step back from me, she was appraising me now. She put her other hand in her pocket too, pushed her shoulders back and swept her eyes down my bare legs to my feet and back up to my face, slowly. I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath. All of my nerves were singing out, my heartbeat was pounding in my ears, it was like I had become aware of every single part of myself under her scrutiny. She nodded slowly, she was so damn cool but her blue eyes gave her away - she was hungry, 

"Take off your t-shirt". 

Her voice, _shit_ I would do anything she asked. I grabbed the hem, my arms crossed over my body and pulled it over my head and off in one movement, tossing it aside. I was standing in just my bra and panties now, my skin fucking burning under her gaze. She licked her lips, her eyes flickered all over my body like flames,

"Good girl," she whispered and started to circle around me. 

She moved out of my line of vision and I could feel her touch on my shoulder as she traced her hand across the top of my back. I shivered involuntarily, I could hear her breathing heavily behind me, my heart was galloping in my chest. She stopped behind me and put both hands to my shoulders, lightly sliding her fingers down my shoulder blades and then undoing my bra, pushing the straps down my arms and letting the black lace fall to the floor. My nipples immediately hardened as they were exposed to the air. I let out a gasp at the sensation and I could feel wetness pooling between my legs. My shaking legs.

"Look at yourself"

I saw then the large full length mirror standing in the corner of the room by the lamp. I could see myself reflected in it and her behind me. We were framed, my pale skin almost glowing and her resplendent in blue, darkness all around us. My God she was breathtaking. As I looked, transfixed by what I saw, her hand snaked under my arm and around my ribs to my breast, her fingers caging my nipple and squeezing, trapping that sensitive part of me. She spoke into my ear, looking me in the eye over my shoulder in the mirror,

"Look at how - _fucking_ \- _beautiful_ \- you are Rooney." 

Her voice was so soft and low, and as she spoke she pulled me against her and I could feel the wonderful curve of her breasts in that sea glass silk against my back. I lay my head back against her and her other hand spread out on my thigh as she hooked her thumb under my panties pulling them down. More black lace pooled on the floor.

She suddenly let me go and stepped back. My skin immediately ached for her touch, I think I might have let out a noise at her absence.

"Untie your hair." 

I quickly did so, shaking my head so that my hair tumbled down my back. I could feel her hands in it, stroking it down, pulling it lightly and making my scalp tingle.

I was trying to find her again in the mirror as I felt her hands flat on my back - I closed my eyes, _dear God_. This time she moved her hands firmly downwards and bent her knees wide as she did so. Gliding her hands all the way down my body, she crouched behind me. I opened my eyes and could see her knees spread either side of my legs as her hands stroked all the way down my back to my ass and then lower, over the backs of my legs. She brought her hands back up to my ass and squeezed roughly digging her short nails into me while kissing and licking my thighs, right at top. The rough dragging of her nails and delicacy of her mouth and tongue was incredible. My breath hitched in my throat as she stood up tall and held my waist firmly, thumbs digging into the small of my back, pulling me against her again. I could feel the silk of her trousers against my ass and, boldly I thought, I pressed my behind into her pelvis, making her gasp too. She held my hips even tighter and ground me into her. 

I could see her in the mirror, her eyes were focussed on my ass and she was biting her lower lip as I leant forward. She looked up and caught my eye in the mirror and then snapped me back upright, placing both hands under my arms and grabbing my breasts roughly, enveloping them fully in her strong hands. I whimpered as my head fell to the side against her again and she licked the whole length of my neck with the tip of her tongue, from my collarbone to my ear lobe, pulling it into her mouth and biting it before letting go. I put my hands behind me and grabbed her hips tightly. She was massaging my breasts in her hands, my nipples were painfully erect and she pulled them as she pushed her groin into my ass. 

"Tell me what you want baby." Her voice was tight and raspy, she was looking at me again in the mirror but not at my eyes, now she was looking at my naked body displayed for her there. 

"You know what I want." My voice was equally strained. 

"Tell me, Rooney. Tell me, exactly, what you want me to do to you."

I span around in her arms then taking her by surprise, the no touching rule forgotten, and grabbed her lapels. I stood on my tiptoes, although I was still shorter than her, my face was only inches from hers and I could smell a hint of vodka on her breath. It wasn't overpowering though, she smelt as divine and distinctive and as exotic as she always did. My eyes roamed her face taking her all in. I didn't want to miss any detail of how she was looking at me. Her hands grabbed my ass firmly and pulled me tightly to her, the feel of my naked skin against her silk clad frame was almost unbearable. The look in her eye was animalistic, her breathing was ragged and I could feel her heart pounding against my own, equally fast. She wanted this as much as I did; the thought pleased me hugely. My nipples strained against the slightly rough fabric of her jacket, it felt divine and I swayed ever so slightly, rubbing my breasts on hers. Her lips rose with the echo of a smile, I still couldn't speak so I just reached for her mouth with my tongue, twisting my head to the side and sliding deeply into her mouth. She exhaled heavily, releasing a moan with her breath. _See Cate, I can play this game too._

Still on tiptoes, I raised one leg and wrapped it tightly around her, hooking it up on her hip. She shifted her weight to spread her legs and support me and, grabbing the thigh of my raised leg, she kissed me deeply, her lips bruising against mine. My arms were around her shoulders now clinging to her as she pushed her thigh solidly in between my own, pulling my leg back by holding under my knee so that our hips were almost fused. Our mouths came together furiously, tongues fighting for dominance and I pressed myself into her as hard as I could - my hand now to the back of her head pulling her to me. I was again completely overwhelmed by the need to be as close to her as possible, to consume her, to make her a part of me and to become a part of her. Our kiss very quickly became frantic both of us moaning and mewing, biting, licking, revelling in the feeling of our now swollen lips merging and melting together. Her other hand on my ass slipped round to the juncture of my thigh and butt and she squeezed the flesh there digging her nails in again before moving her hand further round and delving her fingers into my soaking pussy from behind. I broke off our kiss with a gasp, pulling her head back by bunching her hair in my fist roughly and looking into her eyes. As she trailed her hand back onto my ass I could feel a silken thread of wetness spread across my skin from her fingers.

"I want you, Cate" my voice was shaky and weak, I had to force the words from my lips. Still only inches from her face, I could feel her breath hot on me. "I want you to take me and use me and do whatever you want with me. I'll do anything, I'll take anything you can give." I wasn't just talking about this moment and she knew it. 

She grasped my hips once again and span me back around, holding me steady with one arm around me, crossing my chest and holding my breast, my other crushed callously against her forearm. She put one of her legs between my own, spreading my feet apart with her foot and, without warning or preamble, Cate slid her free hand down my torso to my pussy and thrust her fingers deeply inside me. I was so wet and open for her that she met no resistance and immediately added a third finger, sliding deeply inside me, all the way to her knuckles. I cried aloud and gritted my teeth unable to tear my eyes away from the mirror, wanting to see us, wanting to see everything that she was doing to me - I so nearly came right then. Her strong, long fingers right inside me, the palm of her hand pressing hard against my clit, spreading my lips rudely open. She was looking me right in the eyes with no shame. Fucking me, claiming me. 

Cate moaned into my ear as she entered me with her fingers and then spoke "Oh, fuck Rooney," her words were slow and deliberate, vibrating right into my ear, "You feel so fucking good, so soft," - punctuated with licks and kisses - "so hot baby, so, so wet for me." She nuzzled into my neck, grazing me with her teeth. I wanted her to bite me but I knew she wouldn't, leaving a mark would be a bad idea. So I twisted my head, desperate to kiss her, meeting her mouth in a messy frenzy of moans and kisses. My mouth hung open as I panted with every thrust. She kissed my face and I squeezed my eyes shut as she drove her fingers in and out of me, slowly and firmly, keeping her palm solid and grinding it against my clit. It almost hurt, she was being rough but I did not care, it was verging on painful but so good, so, so good.

My legs were shaking and weak, I could barely stand but she was holding me so tightly, supporting me completely. She withdrew her fingers and slithered them all around my pussy, circling my stiff clit before plunging them deep again and again and again - the sensation was incredible. I was so hard and so open.

"Oh, fuuuuck"

I was stretching myself out on her, one arm flung up and twisted into her hair at the back of her head, the other holding her hand at my breast tightly, my spine arched I was right up on my tiptoes. My breath was coming in quick, short gasps as I tried frantically to push myself higher, wanting almost to get away from the incredible sensation she was creating right in the core of me, it was so strong. The intense feeling of pleasure was building and building, I could feel myself about to fall, to fly, about to tumble helplessly. I wanted so desperately to be carried away but she held me back and she anchored me.

Finally I heard her voice low in my ear again, "I'm here Rooney. I've got you, cum for me baby, let go." 

With her permission, every single one of my muscles contracted, from my toes to my the tips of my fingers. As release ripped through my body I felt like I was being pounded again and again by waves of pure pleasure, tossed in a sea of fucking lust, as she kept me right at the very crest of my orgasm. I have no idea how she did it but my whole being was reduced to just sensation. It felt like pulses of fire - like lightening striking the ocean - starting from her hand in my cunt and spreading all over my body, to every single inch of me. Nothing else existed. Cate was so strong, she stood fast and held me so tightly that I was able to just give in completely and rely on her. And she held me. She stood firm and unyielding and waiting for me.

As I came down, my body still limp, she eventually gently slid her fingers from me and steadied me by crossing her arm over my belly, her other arm still across my chest. I became aware of my breathing and could hear her deep, shuddering breaths behind me. I could feel her breath hot in my hair.

My eyes gradually refocused and I found the image of us again in the mirror. I was draped over her, flushed and perspiring, I looked spent and spread. I could see that Cate was looking at us too, transfixed. It was beautiful. We were beautiful.

Then my eye caught a sparkle of light on her left hand, the hand still holding my breast. A flash, like the sun glinting on a single silvery fish in the water. She was wearing a massive ring on her third finger.

I don't know why I even thought about it. Cate wore a wedding ring as often as she didn't but she definitely hadn't worn a ring before when we had been, you know, together. She must have seen my face change in the mirror and she slid her hands away delicately, stepping back from me like the tide drawing back from the sand.

"Rooney, I have to go..." she was behind me still, looking at me in the mirror over my shoulder. 

"No, don't, stay. Please." My back was to her, I was facing the mirror and I felt so naked, cold suddenly without her holding me.

"Baby, I can't, it's so late and I have to be up early, I've a million things to get done before the ceremony." She reached out and dragged her hand down the centre of my back only just touching me making me shiver.

I turned and stepped to her, again holding her lapels and lifting my face up to hers. Her beautiful eyes shone like the sea after a storm. I kissed her softly and fully on the lips once. "Don't go. Stay, please Cate, stay. I need you..." I kissed her again, using my tongue this time, tracing her lip, my hand to her cheek. I felt dread, I can't explain why, I knew that I shouldn't let her leave - I tried to show her with my kiss. I could feel tears pricking in my eyes.

"I can't."

I pulled back, "Do you have to get back to him? Is he here?" I don't even know why I said it, I didn't mean it. I didn't need to know, it wasn't important to me.

Well, there you go, maybe it was.

"No, I don't have to get back for anyone and no, he's not here Rooney." Her hands were on my shoulders now, keeping me at a distance .

"It's just that I see you're wearing his ring tonight," my voice was more accusing than I'd meant it to be and she looked over at her hand on my shoulder, "while you're fucking me,". She dropped her hands to her sides.

"What? Don't be a child Rooney. I'm not the one who brought my boyfriend with me today - "

"You said you were fine with that - I explained, it doesn't mean anything..."

"Yes, I said I was fine with it didn't I? Because I know it doesn't mean anything, like this piece of jewellery doesn't mean anything. Come on, you're being fucking ridiculous."

I had thought that I would take anything from her; even the smallest piece of her, the leftovers after she had given everything else to someone else. But seeing that ring, a symbol of commitment, ownership, submission, possession, loyalty, family, love, maybe I wasn't prepared for that after all. I turned my head away from her and as I did so she reached for my hand. 

"Rooney, don't, I'm sorry. It was careless of me to wear it but it's just a ring - it doesn't mean anything to me."

"It does to me. It means something to me and it means something to everyone else who sees it." I looked in her eye. I knew I was being unreasonable, I did I knew it. But I couldn't help it.

"I have to go, let's not argue, please" she said softly, pulling my hand and capturing me in her arms and holding me close against her. "Thank you for... that." She sighed, I could feel her heart still racing against mine, "I needed to see you tonight, to be with you like that. To have you. I wanted you so much. The Armani party was absolute hell, I had to make so much fucking small talk with so many bloody people and all I could think about was you and what I wanted to do to you. Christ - your dress this afternoon. I needed it, needed you. I wasn't too rough was I?" 

"No you weren't too rough. I needed it too," I said, inhaling her, my face against her bare chest in the V of her shirt "and I think I got the better end of the deal."

"Oh no, no way baby." She tugged my hair so my head was tilted up and she kissed me, putting her other hand to my face and sliding it down onto my neck, possessively. As she pulled back from me, she was smiling her beautiful wide smile. A million fucking kilowatts and I was blinded. 

"Thank you Rooney." She said, softly "I'll see you in a little while on that great big red carpet."

"Yes you will." I kissed her again, lightly.

She turned and walked to the door. Reaching out for the handle and pulling it open, she was caught in a shaft of light from the hallway,

"Cate,"

She paused - she was absolutely beautiful. Her hair was messed up, her lipstick smudged off and her eyes tired and smokey but she was still so elegant and poised, I had never, _ever_ seen a woman like her. I knew I never would again. She was utterly incomparable and I felt that tightening, dragging feeling again in my chest.

She turned, and looked at me. Her face was perfectly lit - I wished I had a camera. I hesitated 

"Good night."

"Night baby." She whispered, smiling at me and then bowing her head as she stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take this moment to say a really whopping huge 'thank you' to everyone who's read so far. I'm sorry for banging on about it but I started with a vignette of C&R in a kitchen, scribbled in my notebook and with an urge to write more - now look what's happened. 
> 
> I _can't believe_ that this work has received over 10,000 hits. That's just absolutely mind blowing to me. 
> 
> I'm humbled and amazed and so grateful to each and every one of you who has read this. Your comments mean the world to me - I won't deny it - but it means so, so much just that you're coming back to read so THANK YOU :))
> 
> MM XX


	29. Winter 2017: Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's go back to 2017. If you remember, Cate and Rooney had had dinner then Cate asked "Do you want to talk properly while you're here?", and Rooney had stumbled away and out into the night..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait to post this but what the heck. I've written it, I'd love for you to read it.

Cate paid the bill and asked for a cab at the bar. She did not hurry, she knew that there was no where for Rooney to go. They were in the middle of the countryside and there were never taxis waiting, there were not enough people to warrant it. Plus there was no phone reception. Maybe it would help Rooney to spend a few moments alone with her thoughts. So Cate sat back down and finished her wine. Once she had drained her glass she pulled on her coat and, nodding 'bye to the bar staff on her way, went outside to find her. 

Cate pushed the door open and stood in the chilly night air outside the pub. Digging around in the deep pockets of her coat she found a packet of cigarettes and lit one, breathing in gratefully before exhaling the smoke in a long calming plume. The cold air was refreshing, clearing her head. Why on earth had she called Rooney in the first place? How had this ever been a good idea? She shook her head. Part of her had just wanted to _see_ Rooney for herself, to check that she was still living and breathing and real. Another part of her had, rather masochistically, wanted to see what her own reaction would be to encountering her again. Would she still feel something in her gut, that almost primal urge; would the quiet, self possessed woman still hold that inexplicable pull for her. That question had been answered almost as soon as she had caught sight of Rooney coming out of the car. She had felt such a physical reaction at merely seeing her that it was like someone had sucked all of the air out of her. It had taken all she could muster not to just run to her and throw her arms around her. While she had slept at her house Cate had sat on the floor outside Rooney's room and actually cried, shaking. She sat there leaning against the door willing, silently willing the brunette to open it and see her there. In a fucking mess on the floor.

There was another, larger reason that she had wanted to see Rooney though. That particular elephant had not been dealt with yet, had not been dragged kicking and screaming into the middle of the room. She had considered, over dinner, not bringing it up at all; Rooney seemed content to just not speak about anything important and Cate wondered if she could bite it back herself, swallow it down and not let it out but, when it came down to it, she just could not pretend any more. This point would have come eventually. It was inevitable. She could not carry on the polite small talk, the flirty banter that they had fallen back into so comfortably. The act was starting to slip. She simply could not continue without knowing. She had to know. 

As she leant in the doorway smoking Cate cast her mind back briefly to that horrible, horrible day. She did not think of it at all anymore, she avoided any questions about it and even now could only briefly place her mind's eye back there. It felt like staring at the sun, too long and it burned. February 28th 2016, The Oscars, was always going to be a difficult day what with Carol's poor performance at awards - she had been prepared for that - but what happened with Rooney there was... crushing. Yes, that was a good word, she had felt _crushed_ by it, collapsed, defeated and devastated. Shrunken down to almost nothing.

Cate had spent the weeks following that day in a complete state, she did not know really how she came through it. Everything with Carol, the problems with her marriage, her general feelings of dissatisfaction and malaise and then the - situation - with Rooney had topped it all off and it was too much. Hylda had been there for her; Cate had not told her, she had never told anyone about Rooney, but her oldest friend had known that something was very wrong and had cleared her schedule, batted everyone else away and given her time and space. Cate had stayed at Hylda's home in Ireland for a week or so right after, alone and away from everyone and everything even the children. Hylda had asked no questions, she just let her friend be.

Cate had struggled for a while afterwards, God she had struggled. Everything felt empty for her, devoid of hope the future just felt a bit bleak. Just when she thought she was starting to get her head straight again though, it had all come flooding back at that fucking party of Todd's. It was the first 'thing' she had attended since the Oscars and Todd had told her Rooney was not going to be there (she had asked, casually). Cate was floored when she arrived and saw her talking to Sarah. The brunette had smiled at her as though nothing had happened. As though her world had just continued on its axis since that day, happily spinning in space. Cate's world had completely shifted. When faced with the situation she did what she did best and totally avoided it. She had just hid - and drank. 

Over the following few months though, she had recovered. Well, life had to continue. The house, the kids, she took it easy with work and things got better. The initial pain dulled, it's sharp edges worn down by the ebb and flow of daily life. She had managed to carry on and be happy, she was a practical person and knew that she had a great deal in her life to be thankful for. She would not allow this, the actions of another, to defeat her. But it was always there at the back of her mind, in the pit of her stomach, a tight ball in her chest; an ache, a hunger, a longing. 

Cate had devoted a lot of time and energy in those first few weeks to trying to work out _why_. Her emotional distance perhaps. The stupid ring in that hotel room - surely that could not be it. Cate had come to the conclusion that it must have been something that she herself had done or not done that had led Rooney to act in that way. The point in time had come now for Cate. It was just over a year later and she was ready to hear it, she needed a definitive answer. She needed to know why.

Why Rooney had thrown it all away, why she had dashed all of Cate's hopes, just tossed aside everything they had shared and fucking trampled on her heart. 

Cate dropped her cigarette and, exhaling the last of the smoke, she crushed it under her shoe, set her shoulders and started walking.

\-------

There was only one street in the village really, so she did not have to go far to find her. There was no one around at all, no cars, no noise and Cate could hear the echo of her footsteps as she walked. She had only gone a few yards up the road before she spotted Rooney, huddled on a bench in the grave yard which ran alongside the main road through the village. Cate crossed the road, opened the gate and went in, sitting down next to her. There was a lamp hanging outside the pub and they were still close enough to it that she could see Rooney's face in its soft light. There were no other street lights. 

She looked so young with her short hair Cate thought. Her features were so fine, her skin so pale and clear. Young and innocent, small, like a girl. It was deceptive though. She was not young and innocent, Cate knew she should not be fooled by her outward appearance. She knew the callousness that Rooney was capable of. She was so damn beautiful though, she really was, Cate had to resist the urge to reach out and touch her. She had always found it so difficult to resist Rooney, even before anything had happened between them. 

Instead she sat back on the cold uncomfortable bench and stretched her legs, crossing them at the ankle and looking up to the sky, her neck long. It was a dark night, cloudy with a little mizzle in the air. They would get wet if they stayed out for long even though it was not raining. This was the kind of weather England did best she thought. Portentous. She shoved her hands deep in her pockets and shrugged her coat around her tightly.

"Was it because of your family?" she asked Rooney quietly. "I know how much they mean to you. It can't be easy, coming from a family like yours Rooney. All that history, the weight of expectation. I could have understood that."

Rooney did not say anything, she just sniffed, hunkered down, her face snuggled into her scarf. 

"I saw your dad, you see. I saw him in the bar when I was on the way up to your room - and then on the way out again. I'm pretty sure he saw me, well I know he saw me on the way in, he called my name. I know he doesn't like me me, I don't know why - my lifestyle perhaps? He asked me a lot of questions about my parenting choices I seem to remember." Cate recalled the strained conversation she had had with Chris Mara. It was like he was interviewing her, assessing her and trying to understand her influence on his daughter. "Anyway, I just pretended I hadn't heard him and walked right through the foyer, head held high. On the way out I saw him in the corridor by your room. It must have been obvious what I was doing there..." she shook her head, embarrassed by the memory, "my face, my makeup, my head was spinning I was all over the place." She looked over to the figure next to her, Rooney's face betrayed nothing.

"He was coming out of the elevator and I just went down the stairs. I wasn't exactly inconspicuous in that fucking suit..."

"I'm glad you can laugh about it."

"I'm not laughing baby." Was it the first time she had called Rooney baby today? She used to say it all the time, it had felt so natural. It still did.

Cate sat back, exasperated. Rooney did not look at her. "I'm sorry" she said in a small voice. "I'm sorry for what I said, for how I behaved..."

"I don't understand Rooney, I just don't understand _why_. And why then? On that fucking day of all days? We were going to wait, you said you'd wait. It was your idea." Cate was leant forwards now, "You broke my fucking - "

"I know, I know." Rooney interrupted her turning to face her at last. "I broke mine too."

Cate could see tears spilling from Rooney's green eyes as they met her blue. She leant over and wiped one with her thumb, holding her hand to Rooney's cheek. Her skin was so cold. "Then why?" Cate was imploring, she could feel emotion bubbling up in her chest, her voice was cracking God she hated, _hated_ feeling like this. She took a deep breath and tried to keep it down, to maintain control.

"Kiss me," the brunette asked, pleading with her, closing her eyes, tears spilling onto her cheek. "Please Cate, please. Just kiss me."

"I can't." Cate withdrew her hand and placed it back in the protection of her pocket. She _knew_ that if she kissed Rooney, she would feel that leap of response. The two of them were made of some materials which when put together inevitably created desire. She could not trust herself to touch Rooney any more.

"Look, the cab is here." She got up and walked towards the car, listening for Rooney's footsteps which followed behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot the Highsmith quotation. I've bastardised it - I apologise and do not claim any credit for anything. The full quotation 
> 
> _But when they kissed goodnight in bed, Therese felt their sudden release, that leap of response in both of them, as if their bodies were of some materials which put together inevitably created desire._  
>     
> Beautiful isn't it? I love "that leap of response" that's exactly how it feels isn't it; when it's right. She was a genius - why are you reading this, go and read The Price of Salt (again), you already know it's really good.
> 
> Hang on, before you go - tell me how you're feeling about this chapter and what you're thinking about the direction of the story. Are some of you still cross with Cate? I'd really love to know...
> 
>  
> 
> [shameless plug - if you like my writing, check out my profile - there's a one shot Ocean's 8 thing I've written. Anything where Cate Blanchett might possibly play gay and I'm there....]


	30. 2016 Feb 28: The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back in 2016 again. It's the morning of the Oscars... just to remind you that we know that Cate and Rooney haven't seen each other (apart from at Todd's party) from the Oscars to when Rooney is visiting Cate. Why Goddmanit why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am _extraordinarily_ nervous about posting this chapter. You'll soon see why.

Rooney slept the sleep of the dead, like a piece of driftwood tossed up on the shore after a storm. Like a child.

She had fallen into bed as soon as Cate had left. Naked and spent, she did not have the energy to think about what had happened, although she was not (very) drunk, it was as though she was in a stupor after Cate had gone. She did not remove her makeup, nor set an alarm and she did not take any just-in-case painkillers. 

These things Rooney regretted as she woke up, head thumping, eyeliner streaked down her face, make up smeared on her pillow. She woke with a start, confused and panicked, scrabbling on her nightstand to check the time on her phone. _Oh fuck_ it was late. Way later than she needed it to be. She groaned, pushed up on her elbows and held her head in her hands rubbing and scratching her scalp vigorously to get the blood flowing. She assessed herself as she lay there, undertook an inventory of her senses. She felt sore all over, as though she had been stretched on a stretching machine. Her tongue felt like sandpaper and her thighs and calves really ached. She felt positively bruised between her legs; but she smiled at the memory of how all this soreness had been acquired, and of the exquisite pleasure that had accompanied it. She took a deep breath and flopped back down onto her face, still smiling. Then she remembered that both breakfast and her father would be arriving any minute, as she had arranged with her dad yesterday. Rooney groaned aloud for a second time. She knew she needed to sort herself out and quickly. To say that today was a big day would be a massive understatement. 

She threw the covers aside and sat up, swinging her legs out of bed, letting them dangle over the side. She thought about standing up but instead fell backwards and put her hands up to her head again. Images from last night were flooding her mind. Cate in the middle of her room, the absolute stillness of that moment and her complete and utter control of Rooney. Rooney's own willingness to obey. The suit, _fuck_ , Cate's voice, the mirror, her own nakedness, her own openness, need, desire. The look in Cate's eyes, the feel of her breath on her neck, her hand on her breast, her smell her teeth her fingers. Rooney could feel a tightening in her stomach, an ache in her already bruised core, she became aware of her breath deepening, aware of the weight of her own hands resting on her stomach, of her nipples hardening. _Shit, I don't have time for this._

She sat up abruptly and ran her fingers again through her tangled hair. Yawning and stretching, Rooney stumbled from her bed like a little Neanderthal on the hunt for a drink of water and a very cold shower, followed by some extremely strong coffee. Hopefully these things would combine to help her feel more human again. She grabbed a dressing gown from the back of a chair and was shrugging it on in the still dark lounge when she noticed something on the floor, poking out from under the door that Cate had left from last night. 

She walked over and picked it up, her head spinning slightly as she stood up too quickly. She strode over to the window to pull open the heavy curtain so she could see properly the plain brown Manila envelope she was holding. There was no writing on it, no name or room number. She twisted awkwardly as she pulled her long hair free of her gown and then reached for a bottle of water sitting on the side. It was probably the bottle she had got out meaning to drink last night and it was lukewarm. Temperature was irrelevant though, her brain was rattling in her skull like a ball bearing and seriously needed to be pumped back up with liquid. Downing the water she burped and wiped her mouth on the her sleeve. She tossed the empty bottle into the waste paper basket and turned her attention back to the envelope. Leaning back on the counter and stretching her feet out one by one in front of her to relieve her aching calf muscles, she tore it open.

Inside looked to be photos, they were probably some shots from the Spirits yesterday that CT wanted to show her. She often did that, got the hotel to make print outs and physically posted Rooney the good shots up to her room as soon as she saw them. Even though it would have been much easier to email them, she never did; technophobe. Rooney smiled to herself and peeked in the envelope.

_Oh, older shots, ok..._

_**Flash**_ Cate Blanchett at the bar of the BAFTA afterparty, her arm around Rooney Mara. The women were standing very close to each other, Cate Blanchett was whispering something into Rooney Mara's ear. Rooney Mara's eyes were closed and she smiled as she listened, captivated...

It was a good photo, black and white. Intimate. The sort of image Todd loved.

 _ **Flash**_ Cate Blanchett leaving the BAFTA afterparty, looking behind her, checking, her hand on the small of Rooney Mara's back as the brunette ducked into a car. This one was even more candid...

You could barely see Rooney, Cate was beautiful of course but she looked haunted, anxious. It was not the sort of photo that Cate's people would usually want published. Rooney had not remembered there being a photographer there.

 _No - wait - what?_

_**Flash**_ Daytime. A view through a window, a blonde and a brunette sitting on the window sill in dressing gowns, laughing...

The shot was taken from the same horizontal level. _What?_ The photographer must have been across the street in the opposite building.

_Oh no. No, no, no, no._

_**Flash**_ A view through the same window, this one fuzzy with zoom. A naked blonde pushing a brunette woman up against a wall, her hand to her breast, the brunette's face turned to the side, straining, twisted, contorted, her fingers digging into the blonde's back...

Rooney's heart felt as though it had dropped clean out of her chest and was thumping on the floor at her feet. She could not breathe as she sank onto her knees, dropping the envelope and bringing her hands to her mouth to stifle a gasp, a cry. 

It was not possible. She was shaking her head, _no, no, no, no_.

Rooney reached into the envelope and pulled out several more of the photos that were inside. She spilt them onto the floor, spreading a few of them, pulling her hands back as though the images were flames that might burn her.

 _ **Flash**_ Night time. Two women, a tall blonde and a shorter woman in a hat, embracing outside a train station...  
_**Flash**_ The same two women illuminated underneath a lamp post in a car park, talking - animatedly...  


Rooney remembered those drunk guys coming out of the pub - 

**Flash** The two women, now kissing...  
_**Flash**_ A close up, grainy but still clear, kissing...  
_**Flash**_ They have separated, the blonde turning towards the camera, the brunette stepping back...

 _ **Flash**_ Cate Blanchett.

 _ **Flash**_ Rooney Mara.

 

Rooney could not bear to look anymore. Apart from the first two, the photos were all fuzzy. Taken on phones, or through windows, or in darkness but there was no doubt who the subjects were. Anyone who knew them would recognise them, Cate particularly, and so would anyone else with a little prompting. 

There were a few more pictures, she did not want to see. She did not want to think of the times that they might have been watched and photographed - caught. Her head was throbbing, Rooney put her hands to her temples again. She felt freezing cold suddenly and she was sweating. She could not catch her breath, the sound of her pulse flooded her ears. This could not be happening not now, not today, it could not be real, maybe she was still asleep? Dreaming?

She stood up and dashed to the bathroom turning on the tap and splashing cold water on to her face. Turning the tap off she looked up at herself in the mirror, she was shivering and all the blood had drained from her face. An alarmingly pale reflection looked back at her, face streaked with eyeliner, red rimmed eyes, wide, dark pupils, like something from a fucking horror movie. She felt suddenly sick and retched into the sink, bringing up the water that she just drank and then, coughing, just spit and bile. 

After a few moments she went back into the main room. She stood above the small collection of photos and noticed a piece of folded paper amongst them. Sinking down to the floor again she picked it up. It had print on it and another smaller envelope fell from it. She read:

 

_Please, do not see her any more. The pictures will go to the press if you do. It will ruin her career and it will ruin your career._

_It will ruin her family and devastate the children._

_She **will** tire of you and it **will** all be for nothing. You do not mean as much to her as you think you do. You are not the first, you won't be the last._

_Look inside the envelope. Evidence of a pattern of behaviour, wouldn't you agree?_

 

 _God no_ Rooney thought for a moment. Did she want to see? Really? Could she stand it? She held the smaller envelope in her shaking hand, rocking on the floor, wiping her tears and running nose with the back of her hand. Holding her breath she ripped it open - there were only two photos inside. Rooney exhaled squeezing her eyes shut, tears streaking her cheeks, she had to see. She knew it would ruin her but she had to see.

The first was different from the others - a Polaroid - it was not professional but had been taken at close quarters, not surreptitiously. Cate, clearly it was her, but younger. The photo was from the waist up, she was naked and with an attractive dark haired woman - Rooney did not recognise her. They looked as though they were about to kiss, their faces were very close, inches apart, their foreheads almost touching. The woman had her hand furthest from the camera to the back of Cate's head, wound in her hair, holding tightly and Cate's close hand was grasping the woman's breast, her index finger pressing into her nipple, Rooney could see that the tips of Cate's fingers were digging into her breast. The dark haired woman's eyes were closed and she was smiling, tilting her head to the side slightly; ready. Cate was leaning into the woman, she was clearly the aggressor. Her eyes were wide open and the look on Cate's face... well, Rooney recognised that look.

She looked up to the ceiling. She knew, she knew that Cate had had other lovers of course - she had told her. But this hurt. The look on Cate's face. 

The second photo was much poorer quality but in colour, it looked like it had been taken from outside a window as there were raindrops reflected on glass. Again, clearly Cate Blanchett, naked lying almost at the end of a bed, the window must have been at the foot of it. She was on her back but raised up on her elbows and looking at a woman who was kneeling at the foot of the bed, between her legs. Cate's long legs were around the woman's waist, her feet twisted together, holding her firmly. The other woman was naked too, Cate looked like she was saying something to her. The woman's hands were all over Cate, one on her thigh and the other reaching up her torso. The woman had shockingly red hair. Hardly any of her face was visible but Rooney knew immediately who it was. 

Rooney dropped the two photos to the floor. Scrawled on the back of the colour photo - _These go to the press too. I have more. There have been more._

A loud knock at the door made Rooney jump, "Honey, open up you've got to get ready. We were supposed to meet for breakfast remember?"

Rooney shoved the photos back into the envelope and stuffed it in a drawer of the dresser before she opened the door. Taking one look at his daughter's face, Chris Mara stepped into the room, "Rooney what is it, what on earth's the matter?" She fell, sobbing, into her father's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to say anything (although I do have a lot to say).
> 
> BUT I will say that my second favourite thing about this whole fanfic adventure (after writing and tinkering with the actual words) is reading what you all think and actually entering into dialogue with you all about it. It's really, really brilliant - honestly, it makes the all of the embarrassment and nervousness (of which there is A LOT) worthwhile. Please never stop talking to me like this. I am ridiculously interested in what each and every one of you has to say and I really hope that this semi-denouement lives up to your expectations. I suspect I may lose some of you here so thanks for sticking with me for as long as you have :)
> 
> Hopefully I'll talk to you some more below.... 
> 
> MM


	31. Winter 2017: The Taxi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok - so I've still got you! 
> 
> I know I said updates would be slow, but work is not what I anticipated it would be so I have more time on my hands than I thought. Good news for my writing, bad news for my bank balance. Chapters are going to be short and snappy sometimes though. This is a quickie.
> 
> Anyway - I'll stop blathering on and let you read...

Rooney followed behind Cate, leaving the graveyard and crossing the road to the cab which was waiting for them outside the pub. Cate had got in behind the driver without looking back and slammed the door after her, leaving Rooney to walk around the car to the other side to get in. The back of the car was stifling. Hot, dry air blasted out from the vents and some crappy 80's love songs played on the radio. The seats were tatty and worn and the sweet smell of the Magic Tree swinging from the rear view mirror was overpowering. Rooney felt nauseous.

"You going to Crowborough, right love?" asked the taxi driver, glancing at Cate in the mirror. The smell of stale body odour and cigarette smoke wafted on the hot air from his direction when he moved. Rooney was not sure which was worse, the smell of him or the Magic Tree.

"Please. If you head towards the station I'll direct you when we get close." Cate nodded and leaned forward to speak to him, then sat back in her seat, compressing her long frame into the corner.

"Okey doke. Nice evening ladies?" 

Neither of them answered him and thankfully he took the hint and did not ask any more questions, he just turned up the volume on the radio slightly. He pulled the car away and drove quickly and with little consideration for his passengers along the winding country roads. Rooney had to hold on and put her right hand out onto the centre of the back seat to steady herself as they took the corners. Looking down she saw Cate's hand there too. The older woman pulled hers away though, as soon as she noticed Rooney's was near. As though it repulsed her. She curled her hand into her lap and twisted her long legs away from Rooney, turning her head to look out of the window. Cate was obviously trying to get as far away from her as she could in the confines of the back of the car.

Rooney sighed to herself and turned to her own window. She picked nervously at her lip with her left hand, elbow resting on the arm rest. She was flushed and starting to sweat, the car was so hot. She opened her window an inch to let some fresh air in. A single tear splashed from her eye onto her knuckle. Funny, she thought that she had cried all of her tears. Spilt them all out, wrung from her eyes leaving nothing. She had cried so much at first that she had woken every morning able to trace the crystal tracks of salt on her face with her fingers, where her tears had dried while she slept. That salt was soon redissolved by fresh tears which flowed as she remembered. But she had not cried like that for a while. After she had seen Cate in The Present, that was the last time she had cried. Not that long ago then, after all. 

Pitch black countryside zipped past. There was nothing to see. 

Cate was contemplating whether to just drop Rooney at the fucking train station and let her find her own way back to London. It was taking every single ounce of self control for her not to shout, scream, not to grab hold of Rooney and just shake her. She could feel herself trembling she was so angry. So, so fucking angry. It was slightly irrational, she could recognise that; she really had not been expecting to feel so much anger. Something about the way that Rooney spoke on that bench had just sparked it in her. "Kiss me" fuck you. How _dare_ she. Her hand was bunched into a first in her lap and she could feel her own fingernails digging into her palm. She relaxed her fingers before she drew blood.

Cate looked at the raindrops forming on the window illuminated by the streetlights that were now on the road and thought how she would like to stand outside in the rain and let it all just wash away.

They had left the country lanes now and turned onto the main road towards Uckfield.

Rooney recognised where they were and knew that she had about half an hour in this car to gather herself together. She had to organise her thoughts and prepare herself to tell Cate. Finally. 

As she breathed in the fresh air and tried to stop the flow of tears now freely and silently falling down her cheek, Rooney remembered. She could only catch glimpses from the morning of the Oscars. She had spent so long trying to erase the memory of what happened that now she only had little shards of it left. She closed her eyes in the car.

Crying on her father, the familiar smell of his cologne comforting her, before she dashed away from him and threw up again in the bathroom. Her dad had thought it was nerves. He had told her how proud they all were, the whole family. The proudest they had ever been of her. She was doing so well, her career was really taking off, nothing could stop her now this was only the beginning. Great things were going to happen. 

Proud, proud, proud.

She had let him stroke her hair and sway with her in his arms and speak these words to her. He thought he was helping and all the time Rooney's heart was slowly, slowly cracking under the weight of her decision. 

Rooney remembered how she had told her dad she needed a shower then and had gone into her bedroom.

Two miniature bottles of vodka from the minibar.

In the bathroom, turning on the shower as hot as it would go, she had sat on the floor and drank a third little bottle.

The steam filling the room. Andrew. It had to be Andrew.

It was did not matter though, who it was. She was absolutely trapped, she could see literally no way out other than to comply. Had she not thought that it was pointless anyway? That she could not, should not, take Cate from her family? That there was no place for her in Cate's life?

And she had felt _shame_. She was not gay - was she? She should not feel ashamed, she knew that, but a small part of her felt it nonetheless. It had all happened so fast that Rooney had not even had time to consider how this whole thing affected her sexuality. The _definition_ of her. It seriously had not occurred to her that she would have to tell her family about being attracted to a woman, about being in love with a woman. But these photos... What would her dad say. What would her wider family say, they were so conservative. She would be a home wrecker to them, to everyone. And would she ever get any decent parts again - she would never get an Oscar. Cate would never get her third. Their careers would be ruined, if not ruined straight away then certainly they would stall and splutter before eventually flickering out. 

Thoughts turned to the other women _there have been more_ how many more? Shit, maybe she was not important to Cate after all. She had treated her like an object last night. Turned up in the middle of the night and fucked her. No declarations of love, no feeling, just hungry, frenzied taking.

Sitting in that bathroom, Rooney had no longer known what to think.

And her heart splintered. She could hear it, it sounded like glass being compressed, little shattering noises, chinking, snapping, sharp in her ears. Then the tiny feathery cracks that started in her heart, spread and deepened until they grew into dark, cold crevasses and she felt so fucking split apart that she did not know how she would come together again.

She breathed in the steam and recalled how, on the train to Tunbridge Wells a few nights previously, she had resigned herself to being an affair. Affairs ended.

She had stood in the shower and let the hot water rush over her.

They turned onto the A26 towards Crowborough and started to see more cars on the road.

Cate willed the taxi driver to slow down. She did not want to get home, she did not want to have to talk to her again to listen to anymore of whatever bollocks she was going to spout. Of course she would not turf Rooney out at the station but she would ask her to leave in the morning. This whole thing had been a ridiculous idea. She suddenly felt very, very weary and just could not muster the energy for a confrontation. They would go home and say goodnight and then Rooney would leave in the morning. Cate had thought that she wanted answers but actually, she realised now that answers were irrelevant. It was all fucking irrelevant, it was done. It had ended, as all good things had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it was short. My next fic will have longer chapters I promise.
> 
> Thanks so much for all of the feedback from the last chapter. It's been so interesting to see who loved it, who loved it less so and of course to read all of your thoughts on who the other characters involved may be.... I'm saying nothing but you'll (probably) get answers in these final few chapters. 
> 
> Finally - I don't have to say it do I??
> 
> I look forward to your comments :)
> 
> MMx


	32. Winter 2017: The Taxi (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay folks

Chapter 32

“Take a right up here, just after the bridge.” Cate leant forwards again to tell the driver. 

“Right-oh.” The driver indicated, swung wildly to the right and accelerated up the hill. “You look familiar love,” he was looking at Cate in the rear view mirror, rather than looking at the road.

“It's first left up here please. I get that a lot - I've just got one of those faces.”

“No, I definitely recognise you. Are you in Holby?”

“No.” _Kill me now_ Cate just wanted to get out of this stupidly hot car with its shit music and smelly driver. They had to suddenly pull in to the side and came to a stop as another cab came hurtling down the narrow, winding road towards them. It flashed a thank you with its lights as it passed. 

“Weren't you that surgeon who had the affair?”

“No, I'm not on Holby City, honestly.” 

“Uh,” he seemed pissed off. People love to be right. The two women were pushed back into their seats as he revved the car hard to get going again up the steep incline. The wheels of the car span slightly as it pulled away.

A few moments later Cate leant forwards again, “You can pull in here on the right, this is fine.” The driver swerved into the drive and slammed on the brakes. Cate and Rooney braced themselves as he stopped, pulling into the drive of the substantial house which was on the opposite side of the road to Cate’s driveway. Her house could not be seen from the road and she did not want this guy to know where she lived. They had driven through a little bit of rain but it was still dry here so Cate thought that they could walk up the drive to the house, it was only half a mile or so.

The blonde leant forwards and gave the driver some money “No please, keep the change, thanks,” Rooney had already got out of the car, “Thanks love, night,” he said as he reached round in his seat. Cate opened her door, relieved to be out and in the fresh air. The women both moved quickly out of the way as the taxi reversed into the drive to turn around and speed off down the hill. “Fucking Roadrunners,” Cate muttered as his lights disappeared around the corner. She crossed the road and started walking up the hill.

The night was pitch black and felt oppressive, Cate thought. The cloud was low and although there were no leaves on the trees, they hung low too over the driveway making the night even darker. Away from the small town below, there was no light pollution and there was no street lighting on Cate’s drive; it was well hidden and therefore extremely private. She did not usually walk up it late at night though and thought about using her phone as a torch but her eyes gradually adjusted to the dark and it was fine. At least they had had the drive re-gravelled recently so there were no potholes to twist their ankles in. She stopped walking abruptly and turned around looking back for Rooney. Her eyes met the smaller woman's, saucer like in the darkness. Cate waited for her as one might wait for a child: with irritation.

“Fuck,” Rooney muttered, “you walk so quickly.”

“Sorry, I'm cold and it's going to rain. I want to get in.”

“It's nice and fresh out here after that car,” 

Cate just turned and kept walking. “Cate, wait,” Rooney was striding briskly to keep up, “hold on, please. Don't be like this,”

“Like what Rooney? Like fucking what?” She stopped again and span around, her face was white with anger. It riled Rooney for some reason.

~•~  
_Robert had come to cut my hair earlier in the morning, my Armani dress fit like a perfectly cut glove and the jewellery we had chosen was absolutely spectacular. I felt like a million dollars. I was probably wearing close to a million dollars. Hylda and Lisa were with me in the suite, I'd had a vitamin shot in my bum cheek, we'd had a drink, done an SK-II interview piece, then had a few more drinks but nothing silly. It didn't do to get pissed before the Oscars but it was nice to have something to keep you going._  
~•~

“Hang on a minute - you asked me here Cate, remember? You called me - ‘come over Rooney, we'll catch up, it'll be cool’ blah blah - I didn't know what the fuck to think about that. I mean, nothing for a year -”

Their voices were the only sounds in the darkness. 

“That was _all_ on you Rooney. All of it! How can you even say that? Nothing for a year - shit - do you know how many times I almost called you? Seriously? How much I thought about you, wanted to see you, to talk to you, you haunted my fucking _dreams_ woman.”

~•~  
_I still felt like shit despite the vitamin shot and the vodka. I had a terrible cold that had been threatening all week and had finally come out. The stupidly late night didn't help - but fuck me - it had been worth it. In the car now I blew my nose loudly, necked some Day Nurse, popped a Fisherman’s Friend in my mouth and checked my phone for the 100th time. I had been texting Rooney all morning, but she hadn't replied yet. I rationalised that she wouldn't be alone and probably just couldn't get any privacy. It could be like that - still, she usually replied…_  
~•~

“Why didn't you call me if you wanted to so much?” Rooney wished she had not said anything as soon as the words left her mouth.

“Let me see, why didn't I call? No, wait - oh, hold on, now I remember.” Cate had one hand on her hip while the other flailed wildly in the air. She was nearly shouting now. “You accused me of using you, Rooney. Of using you for sex, as a play thing - you said that I was clearly, ‘clearly’ you said, trying to recapture something that I'd lost and I was using you do do it. That I couldn't give you what you needed, my life was too hectic, I was too _selfish_ and my family were too demanding. Despite all the bollocks -” 

Cate brought both hands up to her head, squeezing her eyes shut

“- and it clearly was fucking bollocks -” 

Cate was shouting now, she was really angry, Rooney had never seen her like this, 

“ - that you told me in Tunbridge Wells about waiting.” The blonde put both hands to her head, running her fingers through her hair and trying to calm down. “Waiting, Rooney. About trying to work it out together, about wanting to know _me_ , about how I should trust you. You went back on all of it; you went back on it and you tossed it in my bloody face.” 

~•~  
_We arrived. I fixed my smile before getting out of the car. The flash bulbs were blinding…_

_Rooney - where's Rooney? I had asked Todd as we met on the carpet. Not here yet. Always late. I did photos with Todd. He was nervous, treading on my dress, ducking in and out of the pictures unsure of whether he should be in the picture or not, of where he should stand. He left me alone briefly and I remember, I had to consciously compose myself, setting my shoulders back trying to loosen up and taking a deep breath. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me today, I just had a bad feeling about something. Stupid. Pull yourself together woman._  
~•~

Rooney was just standing there, hand to her mouth. It started to spit with rain.

Cate stood tall and imposing over her. Rooney's silence angered her. Why was she not defending herself, or arguing back - or _something_? Cate could not stand her passivity. The blonde veritably sneered. “I should never have fucking trusted you.” Mascara was streaked down her cheek, but her tears were tears of anger. She muttered to herself, “I should have listened to Rachel…”

“What the actual fuck? What are you talking about now. Rachel who?”

“Weisz. Oh it doesn't matter Rooney. None of it matters anymore.” Cate, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve, turned away again.

“You're referring to me and Dan - that was one night and it was a mistake. I didn't know he'd told his wife and I don't know why she would tell you and what does that have to do with us anyway?” The brunette was raising her voice now and she grabbed at Cate’s other sleeve to pull her back.

“She told me that you had form.” Cate’s voice was cold now, “It was before Carol actually, I saw her at a thing and your name came up. She told me that you were a user - that you got way too involved during production and then just cut all ties. That you used people to get the best from yourself. That was clearly what you did with me. You got too involved and then you back-pedalled massively. Instead of extricating yourself gently you just dropped me from a fucking height. I should never have got involved”

~•~  
_I was suddenly pleased about our choice of shoes. I was so tall that I could see over the crowd and finally, I saw Rooney. She was with her dad - oh joy. I smiled, trying to catch her eye. Rooney looked distracted and very uncomfortable, which wasn't unusual. She hated this kind of thing._

_As she came closer, I tried to hide my stupid smile. Hylda was standing beside me, she was texting someone and then looked suddenly up and all around - she always had eagle eyes. She leant into me and whispered in my ear something about someone I should say hello to. I wasn't paying attention though, I was watching Rooney coming towards me like a pearl in the sea of people. I had butterflies in my stomach._

_As Rooney approached, I held my hands out but Rooney shook her head, almost imperceptibly. Shit, what's that about? I quickly withdrew my hands. Rooney's dad had a face like thunder when he caught my eye. Wow - his face changed completely when he turned to someone else, then he was all smiles and sunshine. Rooney turned away from me too. OK. Weird.  
~•~_

Cate yanked her sleeve from Rooney's grasp and turned away again. Walking this time, quickly up the drive towards the house and away from the dark haired woman. 

~•~  
_As I was doing an interview up on a podium in the crowd, I was aware of Rooney behind me. She still had her dad with her, looked like he wasn't going to leave her side anytime soon. God, it was hard to concentrate with her right behind me, I just wanted to talk to her and find out what was going on. She looked awkward, like a little girl next to her daddy. I saw them both speaking to camera just now, he looked proud and she looked happy. Why then did I still have this nagging feeling and why the fuck did he shoot me that look just now. I knew he didn't like me, and I had completely avoided him, like a guilty teenage boy, last night… that was probably it. I hope he didn't suspect anything._

_Interview done, I went back down. My face was starting to ache with the constant smiling. Hylda was still glued to her phone - “what the fuck Hylda?” I said crossly, “Sorry babe,” she replied “stuff and things. Look there's Charlize -” she trotted me off by the elbow._

_We finally got closer to the stairs, almost in at last. The carpet took bloody ages and I really wanted to sit down. I had hooked up with Todd again, my arm around his shoulder, when I heard her behind me. She came to stand the other side of Todd and he put his arm around her too. I glanced over at her, unable to hide my pleasure at seeing her now. She smiled back at me, that shy smile, looking up at me. The butterflies came back. I loved Rooney's dimples - I always did. Since the first time we met._

_Eventually, Todd stepped away - he wanted to give the photographers the blood that they were baying for._

__

__

_Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara, Carol and Therese._

_I held my arm out wide for her to step into. The feel of her body pressed against mine like this was familiar to me now, but it still felt incredibly intimate despite being surrounded by people. For that moment, when our eyes met as she stepped to me, there was no one else. There never had been and there never would be. It was always her. I had to hold myself back, keep the veneer in place and stop myself from just holding her, tightly and forever and giving myself away completely._

_“Gotcha.”_

_~•~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have loved all the gentle prods that you guys have given me to continue this story and also that new people are discovering my story. Thanks to all of you for reading. This has been a difficult chapter to write and I hope that it's conveyed what I wanted to; we're not done yet.
> 
> Oh and Roadrunners are actually an excellent taxi firm (despite Cate's experience).
> 
> I'm sorry if I'm confusing anyone with my muddled timeframes - please shout at me below... no profanities though you know I fucking hate swearing ;)


	33. Winter 2017: To the House

She listened but did not hear footsteps following as she turned away from Rooney and continued walking towards the house. A breeze had picked up though and the wind was rustling the naked trees above her so maybe the sound was lost. Anyway, she could barely summon the energy to care if Rooney was following or not. 

Cate’s head jerked suddenly at the shrill scream of a fox in a neighbouring field. She stopped in her tracks and brought her hand to her chest, her heart thumping. It was a blood curdling sound which she should have been used to by now, having lived here for a while, but it shocked her every time. It was a mating call actually, she had been told, but it was a gut wrenching sound that clutched at your heart. In the dead of night the call did not sound like that of an animal but rather like a person screaming out in pain.

Cate pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders and started walking again. Her eyes were stinging and it was not because of the wind. Tears were escaping, but she was not crying. It was relief; her body was reacting physically to the relief she felt and she was surprised by the sudden sobs wracking her chest. The blonde felt totally drained. She had not wanted to relive what had happened at the Oscars, yet had been unable to stop her mind from going back there. It was like the urge to look at a crash on the motorway, or watch a horror film from between your fingers; unavoidable. Not that she regretted any of what she had said just now to Rooney. Her feelings needed - deserved - to be given a voice, to be let out and she actually felt better for it; at the time of her and Rooney's, what was it? - ‘confrontation’ - Cate had been so, so shocked. She had taken it all from Rooney, but had barely spoken herself, at least not coherently, and all of it - all of the anger, the hurt, the frustration - had been caged inside her ever since, thrashing, trapped just under the surface. Now though, her words had escaped and had found release. Cate realised that she hoped they stung Rooney. She hoped that the words had left a mark.

The blonde strode on through the darkness until she rounded to the house. They had left a light on next to the front door and a security light was triggered too as she walked onto the turning circle at the side of the house. Now out of the dark tree tunnel, the tall woman quickly crossed to the house without looking behind and walked up the steps to the front door. As she unlocked the large door and pushed it open, Cate could hear the sound of Rooney's footsteps on the gravel some way behind her. 

The house alarm beeped as soon as she crossed the threshold and she pressed her thumb to the console to the right of the door. The beeping continued. “Fuck’s sake,” she cursed punching in the code instead. The beeps stopped and Cate flung her bag from her shoulder onto the small table that stood against the wall in the hallway, tossing the keys into the large wooden dish also on the table. The house was dark but a small lamp was on in her study across the entrance hall and Cate strode into that room, closing the door to behind her and heading straight for the bookshelves behind the long sofa. 

The room was more a library than a study but it felt pretentious to call it that, so Cate preferred study. One wall was almost entirely taken up by bookshelves, a long blue sofa sat in front of them facing onto the wide bay windows which looked out over the lawns. A desk was at one end of the room, by the door and a stainless steel wood burner at the opposite end. It was not a large room, one of the smallest in the house and Cate’s favourite. She felt secure and warm and snug in there and often found herself retreating there spending hours reading, writing, just sitting on the sofa staring into the fire or at the view out of the windows.

Cate went straight for the bottle of Glencadam that sat on the bookcase and poured herself a generous amount into one of the plain crystal tumblers that was next to it, adding a dash of water from the jug before taking a sip and closing her eyes briefly, waiting for the calming effect of the whisky to hit her. Looking over to the wood burner she was remembered that she had laid it with wood earlier that morning so all it needed was a match. A fire would be just the thing to take the chill out of her bones, so she put her drink down and grabbed a box of matches from a higher shelf, then bent down to light the newspaper. Sitting herself down on the floor, cross legged, Cate enjoyed the warmth from the starting fire. She immediately felt the heat on her face and closed her eyes, listening to the crackle and spit of the wood catching light.

~•~  
I wanted to talk to you _She closes the door behind her and leans back on it_

Hey - you found me. God you look gorgeous baby. I'm loving the little cut out… Come here _I move towards her_

No, Cate _she puts her hand out_

What is it?

I can't do this 

Do what? What do you mean? Are you alright? 

No, I'm not

What's the matter, tell me -

I can't see you anymore

What? What are you talking about? _I'm trying to touch her, to reach for her, she's moving away from me, moving around the small room, her hand out to keep me at a distance_

It's - it's destructive Cate, you're using me, I'm not what you're looking for, I never have been. It was a mistake

What? I don't understand. Is this about the ring - because I explained last night? I texted you today, you didn't reply - last night was amazing Rooney, I mean, fucking amazing - wasn't it? Wasn't it? _A mistake? My head is pounding, I feel dreadful_

It was amazing Cate, it's always amazing, but it was sex. You just took, you took and you didn't want me, _she puts her hand to her chest,_ you don't want me, you want how I make you feel, young, desired, free, I don't know - I don't know what you're looking for but it's not me

No, Rooney, wait, what? I thought we were going to wait, to talk properly when things have settled down? _I have to sit, I lean against the small dressing table_

I can't, I can't, waiting would just be prolonging it. I can't be with you _She's not meeting my eye._ It's like I've been under a fucking spell - you're Cate Blanchett, I was blown away by you, you let me be blown away, you're just going to drop me when you've had your fun _she stops. Takes a deep breath,_ You said it to me, you've done it before - there have been others, you've done it before and you're doing it now. You're still married - it's just sex, it's like a game for you 

Fuck - what? I - what? 

_I'm shaking my head, I can't believe what I'm hearing. Why is she being like this? So cold_

I told you, this is different Rooney, this is different, you, _I hold my hand out to her_ you are different 

I can't. I don't want any of it. I don't want your family, kids - it's too much, I didn't ask for this, I didn't want this. It won't work, you're too selfish _her voice is rising, her hands up by her shoulders, fingers spread out_

Rooney - stop. I'm too selfish? What the fuck? I'm using you, you're just a game to me but you don't want my family? You're not making sense, you're contradicting yourself you're making no sense….

~•~

Cate put her hands to her face trying to stop the images. She stood up and shrugged off her coat, letting it drop onto the sofa and kicking off her boots. Leaning over the back of the sofa she reached for her glass and went over to stand by the window, closing the door of the wood burner on her way past. It would be annoying to have sparks burn a hole in the carpet.

Outside it was still not raining. Cate put one hand in her pocket and watched the flashing lights of an aeroplane floating in and out of the low cloud. She heard the slam of the front door closing, a few footsteps on tiled floor outside and then, silence. Rooney must be standing in the hallway. Cate did not call out. The fire warmed the back of her legs. It was burning well now, the tinder was catching nicely.

~•~  
_The knock, a voice_ 3 minutes Miss Blanchett

Rooney - _I put my hands on her shoulders, holding her now and and stooping, looking into her eyes. She looks straight back at me, eye contact at last, but it's like there is a pane of glass between us. Her eyes are sharp and clear but she's not there. I search her green eyes, looking for the spark but - I can't find it. Shit - where is she_ Talk to me. Please.

I told you Cate, it was a mistake. I got carried away, I won't let you hurt me. I... _she seems flustered, her eyes cast down again_

What? Say it

I wish it never happened 

_she's lifting her beautiful green eyes to look directly into mine_

How can you say that? How can you…? After everything? 

It's just the way it is

No, no, no. _my stomach lurches_ I was going to give up everything for you. Everything. Last night, it was all clear to me, when I got back. 

_I drop my hands from her shoulders and take a step back from her_

I realised that I couldn’t carry on - as I was, just so unhappy, it's not true, not real. I've felt like I was living someone else's life for such a long time now Rooney, but being with you - I feel like me. Like me 

_my hand is to my chest now, I'm desperate, I don't understand_

So yes, I suppose I am using you. I have been searching for what you have given me. I am selfish. But you're wrong - it's not a game. I'll give you everything. Every single thing. I want you, I need you. I don't know what else to say, how else I can express it. It's you, Rooney.

I'm sorry, _what's that, a flicker of fire in her eye? But why is her voice so cold?_ but I can't help you with your mid-life crisis

_Fuck._

_I close my eyes, I'm going to be sick or faint or something_

_I hear the door close softly behind her._

~•~

Cate took another sip of her drink. She thought about getting a cigarette from her coat on the sofa, but found herself unable to drag her eyes from the darkness of the night outside. How has it come to this? Her husband and children are miles away and she is here. Alone with the woman who hurt her, so much. Who took what she gave and threw it away, who took her feelings and her secrets and turned them against her, who held a mirror to her fears and listed them all. Who still had the power to hurt her.

Footsteps started again in the hallway moving towards the study. Cate heard them pause before the sound of a swish on the thick carpet as the door to the study was pushed open. The tall blonde took another sip from her glass before turning around to look at Rooney standing there in the doorway, cold air seeping into the room around her.

Green eyes burned. Rooney's face was so pale, all the blood drained from it, it was as though all of her energy, everything she was, was focused into those green eyes. She pushed the door shut behind her, never taking her eyes away from the tall blonde, and took a deep breath.

“Do you hate me, Cate?”

“Don't you fucking dare quote her words at me,”

“Because I had to make you hate me. I needed you to let me go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments truly are making this an amazing experience for me. I feel like we're all in it together. Thanks for being a part of it and for allowing me to share with you. Not done yet...


	34. Winter 2017: The Study

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay folks...

Footsteps started again in the hallway moving towards the study. Cate heard them pause before the sound of a swish on the thick carpet as the door to the study was pushed open. The tall blonde took another sip from her glass before turning around to look at Rooney standing there in the doorway, cold air seeping into the room around her.

Green eyes burned into her. It was as though everything narrowed into those two points. Rooney's face was so pale, all the blood drained from it. She pushed the door shut behind her and took a deep breath.

“Do you hate me, Cate?”

“Don't you fucking dare quote her words at me,”

“I had to make you hate me. I needed you to let me go.”

~•~

Cate just stared at her. “Rooney, I can't listen to this anymore -” she took her hand out of her pocket and held it out flat. “Seriously, it was a mistake - me asking you here. We don't need to talk about it, there's nothing more to say. You made yourself clear and I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea to go over old ground like this. It's like scratching at a scab.” Cates voice was spiked and impatient. She turned around again to face the window, taking another mouthful from her glass and putting her hand back in her pocket. Closing off.

Rooney crossed the room, taking her coat off and flinging it on top of Cate’s on the sofa. Cate could hear her soft footsteps as she went to the side, a gentle ‘puft’ as she took the cork from the bottle and a slosh as she poured herself a drink. The quick slam of the glass once Rooney had necked her whisky annoyed the older woman. “It's not a fucking Jack,” she muttered to herself. 

“I mean it Cate. I wanted you to hate me.”

Rooney was facing the books, hands on either side of the shelf where her glass was, suddenly unable to turn and face the blonde, who stood with her back to the room still staring into the night. The cloud was bearing down outside, a few spits of rain fell, darting the window. Only the crackle and spit of the fire broke the silence between them. Cate sighed and hung her head, resting it against the cold glass of the window.

“I didn't hate you. I don't. Rooney how could I?" The older woman could hear her own voice bouncing back at her from the glass. A weird echo. “I hate what you did. You hurt me, you really hurt me. And you meant to. You knew _exactly_ what to say.” She closed her eyes. Cate had spent the rest of the evening at the Oscars trying to find a private moment to text Rooney. She could not physically get anywhere near the younger woman. Hylda demanded her attention for the entire evening and when she saw Rooney, her dad was circling around, barely leaving her side. Cate had texted her over and over in the end, desperate to talk, to communicate in any way that she could, to explain and to justify - why the fuck should she justify herself? - She would have tried anything, everything. She did not receive a reply until the morning.

_Leave me alone. Please, leave me alone._

Cate had lost it then - she was incandescent - she replied with a tirade. Horrible, hurtful words; words that she shuddered to remember. “I'm sorry about my texts. Afterwards. It was - I was - .” The blonde straightened up and turned at last and sat on the windowsill, resting her back against the glass and facing Rooney. Words escaped her, lost in the space between them.

The younger woman turned also, her face impassive. She was so unreadable, so self-contained. Cate remembered that evening in the cave in Tunbridge Wells and how Rooney had opened right up to her, how surprised she had been, how desperate the younger woman had been to spill the words to her and how Cate had drunk them all in. That Rooney had gone, it was as though she could turn it on and off. Maybe that was her skill. _Maybe she has played me all along_.

“No. You're not the one who should apologise.” Rooney's voice was clear and calm again. 

Cate gave a laugh. “It’s a bit late for apologies anyway isn't it, Rooney? This is stupid…”. She ran her hand through her hair and looked up to the ceiling. 

“Do you want to know why? Cate, if you don't hate me then there must be a chance -” 

“A chance for what?” Quick as a whip Cate interrupted, “For us? Give me a fucking break.” The blonde sank her whisky now and, leaving her glass on the windowsill, stood up to get a cigarette from her coat pocket. Rifling until she found the packet, Cate lit one with a match from the top of the wood burner. She took a long drag and crossed her arm over her stomach, shivering suddenly despite the heat from the fire. Grey eyes searched green. Looking for something familiar. Unable to find it.

“A chance that you'll forgive me.” Rooney moved around the sofa standing to face Cate, only a foot or so away from her. “Sit down, let's talk properly,” Rooney reached out an arm, trying to connect.

“What a fucking strange girl you are Rooney Mara.” Cate shook her head. “Why do you have this power over me? How do you do it? I still haven't worked it out, worked out why I was willing to put _everything_ on the line for you.”

“I don't know. I gave up looking for a reason. For logic.” Rooney shrugged. “Some people just have a connection.” A pause. “Don't they?”

“Or think they do. I don't want to sit down.” Cate said bitterly as she turned to pick up her glass again. “Just spit it out, whatever it is, I'm," she sighed, "I'm so tired Rooney.” 

The brunette sank down onto the sofa, her knees together and her fingers nervously picking at each other. She seemed to shrink, to ball up, making herself even more childlike. Cate watched the younger woman do it and, as she poured another drink, she wondered whether this was also a tactic. “There were photos.” 

Cate stopped dead. She put the bottle down turned to look at Rooney. She could feel electricity suddenly in the air between them, as though Rooney's words carried charge.

Although her frame was small the brunette’s voice was still strong and clear. “Andrew sent photos. Through my door, the morning after the Spirits, after - that night - ” At this, Rooney, her face still unreadable, turned and looked up to face Cate. 

“What?” The tall woman rounded the sofa, sitting on the arm farthest from Rooney. “What photos, photos of what? Of us?”

Rooney could not meet her eye, staring instead down at her hands. Cate saw her thumbnail was bleeding at the cuticle where she had picked it. “Yes. Photos of us. At the bar at the party after the BAFTAs, getting into the car,”

“Well, what's that got to do with anything?”

“Long lense of us in your hotel room Cate.” She looked up, “The photographer must have been over the street. The images were pretty clear. Me against the wall. That morning.”

Cate remembered.

“And in Tunbridge Wells. At the station, coming out of that cave pub. Talking, kissing, -”. Rooney broke at the last word, bringing her hand to her mouth, tears escaped finally. Her face crumpled. Cate could not speak _\- what the fuck?_

Rooney wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “They saw us, Cate. Someone saw us, they saw us and they took that moment,” she was gathering herself again, “those moments and they used them. They used them.” Looking directly at Cate, willing her to understand so she would not have to spell it out. 

“Used them for what Rooney?”

“There was a note in with the photographs.” Rooney pulled her coat and unzipped the inside pocket. Cate went behind the sofa and stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray. She was stunned. Could this be true? It seemed unbelievable. Andrew? How could he have known, he had been so wrapped up in his own world. This sort of thing did not actually happen, scorned husbands, private detectives, fuzzy photographs. It was ridiculous.

“Here” - Rooney handed her a piece of paper. It had been folded and unfolded over and over again, becoming tatty and worn. Cate read it. She looked at Rooney and then read it again. 

_Please, do not see her any more.  
The pictures will go to the press if you do. It will ruin her career and it will ruin your career._

_It will ruin her family and devastate the children._

_She **will** tire of you and it **will** all be for nothing. You do not mean as much to her as you think you do. You are not the first, you won't be the last._

_Look inside the envelope. Evidence of a pattern of behaviour, wouldn't you agree?_

"What was inside the envelope?” Cate’s voice was soft. She almost did not want to ask. The dark haired woman said nothing. A loud crack came from the under seasoned wood in the burner.

"Rooney. What was inside the envelope?” The brunette had composed herself, her calm facade had returned. She reached inside her coat pocket again and handed Cate a small envelope from within it.

Cate snatched it and took out the two photographs. _Oh God._ She moved around and sank down onto the edge of the sofa, still holding the photos in one hand and the letter and envelope in the other.

“Do you expect me to explain this?” She looked over at Rooney. “Is this - are these - is this why you did it?”

“No Cate, I did it because I didn't want to be responsible for tearing your fucking family apart.”. The question angered Rooney. “I wasn't _pleased_ to see those other pictures, sure, but you told me there had been others.” Rooney stood up now and walked aimlessly into the middle of the room, “I don't know. Look at what the note says _you don't mean as much to her as you think_ , those pictures, the look on your f -” her breath hitched in her throat, unable to release the words “the look on your face. Come on.” 

Rooney's voice broke, a sob escaped her mouth before she could bring up her hands to keep it in. She was starting to crack, having tried so hard to hold it together. 

Cate said nothing. She was thinking, all the time, thinking. This changed everything, didn't it? All this time. “Why didn't you tell me Rooney? You should have told me?” Cate tossed the papers on the sofa, revealing the back of the prints and the writing there _These go to the press too. I have more. There have been more._

“Fuck - what?” Cate put her head in her hands, suddenly feeling dizzy. “Fuck.”

“How could I Cate? How could I tell you? It was an impossible choice - it's not just you and me is it? It your children - it's your mom, my stupid family, _these women_ , whoever _they_ fucking are.” She gestured at the photos on the sofa before bringing both hands up to her face again, hiding her mouth but still staring directly into Cate’s eyes. She could not look away.

“Ask me.” Cate's voice was firm.

“No.” The brunette shook her head and closed her eyes briefly, emphatic, hands clasped together under her chin.

“Ask me.”

“I don't care.”

“Rooney.”

The older woman stood up and grasped the brunette's arms, bending slightly to meet her eyes and look straight into them. “They were nothing, compared to you Rooney.” Cate pulled Rooney to her in a tight embrace. Rooney was stiff and unyielding but Cate held her nonetheless, she squeezed and breathed her in. 

It was still there. She felt it again. They both did.

Cate closed her eyes as the younger woman melted into her. “Nothing.”

~•~

Both women sat on the sofa. The fire was burning well now and the room was warm, snug and dim the only light being the small lamp and the fire. Cate leant back into the corner of the sofa, one long leg tucked underneath the other, her foot under her thigh. She had discarded her drink and held both of the hands loosely in her lap. Rooney sat cross legged at the opposite end, sideways with her back against the arm. She was so small that she fit that way. Their shoes and coats had been abandoned onto the floor and the photos and note lay in between them.

“So you didn't want to destroy your career and my family?” Cate was no longer accusing, the fight had completely left her now.

Rooney gave a sigh “I don't give a damn about my career, Cate, I have never really worried about that. It was your career I was worried about. You are different to me - you've got a different audience, you're an academy award winner - this would have destroyed you. And having an affair with a woman? An affair is bad enough on its own. And the kids - Andrew would have won custody _if_ you'd split up. I know that would have been unbearable for you.”

“But you could have spoken to me about it -”

“The letter was pretty clear, I didn't know what the fuck he was going to do or when he was going to do it. I panicked. I just reacted from my gut.” Rooney balled her fist and held it to her stomach. “I hated it, I hated it doing it, talking to you like that's saying those words - but I didn't know what else to do.”

“And the other pictures, of me with them -”

“- played on my insecurity and made what I did _infinitesimally_ easier.” Than brunette shook her head, she was staring wide eyed into her lap, picking her fingers again. Cate just listened.

“Shit Cate,” She closed her green eyes before looking up again, “after that night, the night before, that was so amazing but - I don't know - the ring, you just left, I felt like you took - even though you were the one giving,” Rooney's eyes were wide, searching for understanding, “I loved it and it scared me, it scared me how much power you had, how I completely and utterly gave in to you and you just did that to me. Just like that.”

Cate nodded. She had realised long ago that she should have been more open with Rooney. There had been flashes of it, but not enough to give the other woman any security. The blonde knew she could be her own worst enemy, shutting herself off, making light. She sighed heavily and put both hands to her forehead, elbows to the sky, stretching her spine. “I want to tell you.” She flopped her arms heavily onto her legs, adjusting them to sit with one leg bent and resting against the back of the sofa, facing the brunette squarely now.

“I already said, I don't care.”

“No, but I care. You asked me things before and I avoided your questions. You deserve answers Rooney.” It was Rooney's turn for silence.

Cate took a deep breath. “Julianna and I had a brief ‘thing’ after we had worked together. She wasn't a colleague at the time - I didn't lie to you.” Then blonde stretched out her long fingers on the sofa between them, emphasising her point. “I never lied.” She pressed the cushion, her eyes on her hand.

“It was intense, and fun, and - well." She cleared her throat. “I don't regret it, I don't really believe in regrets but she does regret it, I think, and we haven't spoken in years.” Cate looked up at Rooney. “Andrew took that photo.” Rooney glanced down at the photo of young Cate about to kiss the dark haired woman, pressed against her. This information surprised her. “OK.”

“And Gillian you recognise.” Cate’s fingers brushed the other photo and she glanced up again, “Yes.” Rooney confirmed.

“We met, God, I don't know, sometime in the 90’s somewhere in the 90’s. It's all a bit of a blur to be honest. We were both, I don't know how to put it really,” Cate was not enjoying this, it was difficult for her to say out loud; almost confessional, “well, we both liked a drink and a party. We became close, very close actually, really good friends, really quickly. It was weird how we connected but ultimately it was, well, mainly physical. When we were together it was - interesting - and we enjoyed it. Each other. She was very engaging, hilarious actually and attractive and she gave me a lot of confidence. She came along at a good time for me. Well, at a bad time which is why it was good when she came along.” Cate’s eyes again met Rooney's. She was worried that she had overshared but, at the same time acutely anxious to clarify, suddenly needing the younger woman to know and to understand that she was different. 

“And did Andrew know about her?”

“No. He didn't know about Gilli and he still doesn't.” 

“Are you sure? I mean, how long did it last?” Rooney found that she did want to know. She was curious and the fact that Cate was telling her was actually reassuring. She felt, probably for the first time, that the woman trusted her and was actually giving something of herself.

“Oh it was on and off for years, it wasn't a relationship. More of a casual thing. We haven't seen each other for - well, a while. But I have never told Andrew about her, I am sure he doesn't know, he wouldn't have been able to keep that to himself. I know him and that is how I know that it wasn't Andrew who sent the photos to you.”

“What?” Rooney's confusion was evident on her face. “Well who else would it be?”

“Hylda”. Cate nodded to herself, folding her arms and leaning back again. “Hylda knows everything, all of it - well, she knew everything until you. I never told her about you, but she evidently suspected.”

“And so she had us followed?”

“She must have done. I'm trying to remember if she behaved differently - she's always protective of me. I'm her cash cow, yes but also her friend.”

“Really?” Rooney was scornful.

Cate looked at her. Of course she could see it from Rooney's point of view, but she had known Hylda for years, Hylda probably knew Cate better than anyone, apart from Andrew but even then it was a close run thing. Theirs was way beyond a professional relationship. “I know this will sound difficult to believe Rooney, but I think this came from a place of love. Shit that sounds stupidly corny, I'm sorry. I mean, she's always wanted to look after me - she looks after all her people, it's what she does. I'm talking way above and beyond, with me. We've been together through a great deal.” The more she thought about it, the more sense it made to Cate. 

“Hylda must have guessed what was going on between us.” The blonde smiled a sad smile, “She knows me better than I know myself sometimes. She would have been able to see what would have happened if you and I had taken things any further - I mean, you know, properly further. And you're right, of course you are.” Cate held her hands out to Rooney, deferring to her. “Our respective careers would have been largely screwed and Andrew would have taken the kids. Juliana would be ruined personally, she would be devastated if it came out. The only one who would be OK would be Gilli because she can fucking swim to the top of any pool of shit.”

“But Cate - look what she did? To us. Look what she fucking did…”

“Well, it wasn't entirely her now was it. Rooney. I should have been more honest with my feelings, I should have told you more of what you meant to me. Then maybe you would have had the confidence to talk to me instead of reacting how you did.” Cate knew she was right. Hylda had played them, she knew it would work because she knew Cate.

“Then what now? What happens now Cate?”

“Well,” Cate got up from the sofa, “that's the million dollar question isn't it?” She looked down at Rooney for a beat before turning from the sofa and padding out of the room towards the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - this chapter has taken a while, I hope you're all still here. Thank you for sticking around and reading and I cannot wait to hear what you all think.
> 
> Everybody had an idea of who was who and who did what - please let me know what you're thinking and feeling. I write for your pleasure :) MMxx


	35. Winter 2017: The Kitchen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a kind of reflection of chapter 1 and as such, it's really short (even for me). Feel free to read ch1 again first and see how this differs - or not, it's not mandatory :)

The room was silent save for the gentle hum of the fridge and soft tap tap of the rain, which had finally started to fall on the windows. The lighting in the kitchen was dim, only the soft lights beneath the cupboards came on as they opened the door. The taller woman strode across the floor, her bare feet padding softly then stopping suddenly as she leant against the sink, hands on either side, shoulders up and head hanging down. Her voice, when she spoke was soft. She was almost talking to herself.

"I won't leave him." A pause, a breath. She shook her head in emphasis, or was it exasperation? "I can't leave him." _Is that what Rooney wants? Is that what I want?_ It was irrelevant. 

Resignation and then silence. The fridge stopped humming, they could hear each other breathing.

Cate was frantically thinking. Everything that she had felt and believed in this last year had been thrown up into the air. All of the anger and bitterness that had clutched at her heart, squeezing at her and almost sucking her dry, had just vanished. She was released. It was not Rooney, _it wasn't her_. Rooney did not do this.

Cate could feel the dark haired woman behind her. What to say to her, what to do. It was rare that she was lost for words but all of this information was just so much to take it in. She heard the brunette let out a long, shaking breath. 

Cate turned at the sound and leant back against the countertop, folding her arms across her chest. She looked at Rooney, standing there facing the glass with her back to Cate, head tilted back. The taller woman could see in her reflection on the glass that Rooney's eyes were closed. She was deep in thought too. So much time wasted. 

Cate studied Rooney's reflection. The brunette was so _fucking_ beautiful. She had not changed over the course of the year, still wide eyed and almost doll-like in her perfection. She looked so composed - Cate had always thought so, although the older woman knew that she was not composed now. Those still waters…. There was a flush to Rooney's cheek, her usually alabaster complexion was slightly rouged.

When the small woman spoke, her back still to Cate, her voice sounded strange and quiet and out of place in the large room. It reverberated through the silence.

“Then what do you want from me? Because you know that I'll give you anything. Anything. And I'll take anything Cate."

Rooney turned then and met Cate’s eyes. She moved towards the taller woman crossing the space between them. 

Cate could not speak as Rooney came to stand next to her. The young woman placed her small hands on the cool granite but did not look at Cate, choosing instead to focus her green eyes on the darkness of the night outside the window. Cate knew what would happen if Rooney's eyes met hers now. The brunette would be able to see all of the regret, all of the pain and fear that she had been holding inside. She wanted the younger woman to understand, to understand that it did not matter anymore, that it would be alright. That...

Cate reached over and put her hand on Rooney's, twisting their fingers together. Rooney's hand was cold. The blonde watched her look down at their fingers, moving so softly against each other, before green eyes rose, slowly, to meet blue.

Cate felt light headed and, as she locked on to Rooney's eyes, she felt an overwhelming rush of tenderness towards the younger woman - an almost chemical reaction, unavoidable and unstoppable. All that time and it had not altered. The ferocity of her response. 

Cate opened her mouth to speak but changed her mind. Not wanting to taint the moment with her inadequate words, she drew her breath in sharply. Still twisting and moving with Rooney's fingers, she reached for the younger woman's face with her other hand. Putting her palm to her cheek, Cate's fingers slid round and delved into the short, thick dark hair behind Rooney's ear. The brunette sighed and leant into her touch.

Cate's eyes darkened further and her gaze travelled, so slowly, from Rooney's eyes to her mouth. Her sudden rush of tenderness was replaced by a stronger, more primitive emotion, one that was as familiar to her as it was strange. The blonde parted her lips as her breathing shallowed.

Cate watched, mesmerised as Rooney turned her head and kissed her palm and then flicked her green eyes back up, sparkling defiantly at last, as though challenging the older woman. Daring her.

This time, Cate did not resist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the. Next chapter will be a big one. Thanks for reading as always -
> 
> MMx


	36. Winter 2017: The End?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For AH - she knows who she is ...

Slowly, softly, barely touching, Cate dipped her head and brushed her lips to Rooney's immediately drawing back as though she had been burned by their touch. She released the younger woman's hand, allowing Rooney to turn slightly so they faced each other, Cate’s other hand still to the back of Rooney's head. Their eyes locked together, asking tentative permission of each other. Cate slid her arm around Rooney, moving her hand onto the small of the shorter woman's back - warm and solid - and pulling her gently to her, her blue eyes not leaving Rooney's even for a second as the younger woman came closer. Rooney brought her own hand up to the nape of Cate’s neck and immediately pulled their heads together. Both women moaned as their lips met again in a long and closed mouth kiss, equally loaded with sorrow and anger. Rooney broke off with a sob, her eyes squeezed shut, tears dampening her cheeks. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry -”

“No, don't.” Cate wiped her tears with her thumb, “Don't Rooney. You don't need to,”

“I do,” she pulled Cate again so that their foreheads were touching. “I do.” Without opening her eyes Rooney's mouth searched out Cate’s and she whimpered when she found it. Cate felt a jolt as she met Rooney’s lips with her own, more softly this time, the brunette opening her mouth instantly to allow their tongues to finally meet. The younger woman's taste and smell were like a drug for Cate, at once soothing but so intoxicating. The women kissed deeply and the blonde exhaled as she walked Rooney back a step until she was against the counter, the two of them pressed together, standing as close as they could possibly be. 

Their kiss was not frantic or hurried, it was simply complete and natural. It was exactly as Cate had suspected when they were outside the church. Their bodies were designed to be together, their connection was immediate and entirely mutual. The two women melted into each other, both of them feeling so much _relief_ at their contact, at being returned. It was as if this was their intended state, to be entwined together like this - lips, tongues, hands no longer their own but belonging to each other. They were lost in it, in each other.

The feeling of completion and ease soon gave way though, to need and hunger. Both women started to breathe heavily as, inevitably, heat rose, their kiss igniting something deep within them. Each was keenly aware of what the other desperately wanted and they wanted the same thing. Cate pulled back from Rooney and looked into her eyes once more,

“I won't leave him Rooney. I can't -”

“You don't have to explain. Cate, if it's wrong, we can stop,”

“No, it's not that, it's not wrong,” she shook her head gently, “it can't be wrong. We can't stop,” Cate leant in and kissed her again, slow and loose, her lips were soft and limber and she placed her hand to the smaller woman's jaw, posessively. “ _I_ can't stop, baby, not now.” She reached down and grasped the hem of Rooney's sweater, pulling it off over her head and dropping it to the floor before sliding her hands down the younger woman's torso, over her silk clad breasts and down to her taut stomach, stopping at the button of her jeans. God, she felt so good, so soft and alive, her muscles twitching under her perfect skin, responding Cate’s firm touch. “Unless you want me to?” Her blue eyes darted up, a single eyebrow ever so slightly raised.

Rooney looked at her. She recognised Cate’s expression, the desire in her eyes, and she knew that it was mirrored in her own. “No, Cate. I don't want you to stop.” Rooney's voice trembled as she reached up with both of her hands to Cate’s face, touching her cheeks lightly with her fingertips as though she were a rare and precious object. “I'll always be sorry that I hurt you. So, so sorry,” her eyes were pleading and glistening with tears, “but this - what's between us - this cannot _not_ happen Cate. I want you to know, let me show you -” Rooney reached up and kissed her softly, opening her mouth fully and dragging her lips against Cate’s, “let me show you how much I love you.” Her voice was a promise that hung in the air between them. 

They looked into each other's eyes, a flash of understanding passing between them before Cate crashed her mouth down onto Rooney's, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman's back, trying to claim as much of her skin as possible, while Rooney cradled the back of her head and clung to her shoulder, her arm tightly around her. The brunette moaned as Cate’s tongue thrust into her mouth aggressively, desperately. Rooney pulled her body back and tried to grab the front of Cate’s shirt, a sudden frantic need to get to her skin, their lips did not leave each other's. As Rooney fumbled with the small buttons, Cate pulled her hands away impatiently. She grabbed Rooney's thighs and easily lifted her into the countertop. Once there, Rooney was taller than Cate and put her hands to the blonde’s stretched neck, sliding them down to her chest and the V of her shirt, finally reaching the buttons again and tugging firmly this time. A single button pinged into the tiled floor, skitting and skidding away. Rooney smiled into their kiss as Cate brought her own hands to the front of her shirt and pulled hard sending more buttons flying. She shrugged her shirt off completely and held herself tightly against Rooney, their skin finally meeting. Cate moaned as Rooney's fingers trailed on her back, all the time kissing, tasting, feeling.

The blonde broke away and leant back slightly, Rooney's legs tightly around her waist, bare feet twisted at the ankle behind her, holding her tightly. She ran her hands along Rooney's denim clad thighs as she looked at her. Rooney's hands rested either side of Cate’s neck, fingers in her blonde hair, both of them were smiling broad smiles that reached right up into their eyes. Smiles that neither had used for a long time.

“You love me Rooney?”

“Of course, don't you know?”

“Yes, I think I do. And you know too.” 

“Yes. Yes I do Cate.” Cate lifted her head to Rooney and kissed her slowly and softly. She untangled the smaller woman's legs from her waist and stepped back. Holding out her hand to Rooney, she smiled again. Rooney slid down from the counter and took Cate’s hand in both of her own.

The rain, finally falling heavily, tapped at the glass and the lights flicked off as the women left the kitchen, leaving the room in darkness.

~•~

Standing at the window Cate enjoyed the view, as she always did. The sun was rising way over to the east, the heavy sky of the previous evening had lifted leaving just a thin layer of mist hugging the trees. She could see the pale blue sky above, streaked with pink. The crows were calling out to each other in the woods beyond, reassuring each other that they were all still alive, celebrating the fact that they had survived the night and were ready to face the day. The tall blonde held the curtain open with her shoulder as she leant against the window frame, sipping her tea as she stood there in her dressing gown. Cate felt fresh, like this beautiful morning. She had woken with a clear head and a lightness in her chest for the first time in months. Usually she was only afforded a few seconds of peace, her head fuzzy from sleep, before the memories floated back into her consciousness and darkened her mood. She had got over what happened with Rooney, but the echo of it was always there. A lingering sense of melancholy. Not of regret at what was, but more a sadness at what might have been. Today though, she did not feel it. She had woken slowly, becoming gradually aware of an arm across her stomach, a hand lightly clutching her hip, a naked thigh strewn across her own and a beautiful sleeping face pressed against her shoulder. She had remembered instantly the events of the previous evening and as soon as she opened her eyes she smiled.

Cate had extricated herself ever so carefully from the bed, lifting Rooney's limbs and replacing them onto the bed as she slipped away. The younger woman slept so soundly - perhaps she felt the same peace, Cate wondered. The blonde quietly snuck out of the room, gathering her robe as she left to make some tea downstairs in the kitchen. 

When she returned with two steaming mugs, Rooney was still sleeping, she had not moved even an inch. Cate smiled again as she put one cup down on the small table next to the brunette and walked over to the window.

Now, she reached up and drew the curtain back slightly to let the weak, wintery light filter into the room and she turned to the bed to find Rooney propped up on her elbow, looking at her. 

“Morning baby,” Cate could not contain the wide smile that formed at her lips as she spoke.

“Now that, Miss Blanchett, is the smile of someone who had a lot of sex last night.” Rooney could not resist. 

“Very funny,” Cate walked over and sat on the edge of the bed next to Rooney. She put her cup down and placed her hands on the bed either side of the woman's waist as Rooney scooched up so that she was propped against the headboard, bedcovers clutched to her chest. The blonde leant forward to kiss her lightly. “It was very, very good sex actually.” Her voice was low and soft, her face still close to Rooney's.

“It always is with you.” Rooney said as she put her hands to Cate’s hair. 

“With _us_ Rooney.” Cate leant in and kissed her again. “I do need to explain though, I didn't last night -”

“You don't have to, you don't owe me an explanation. I meant what I said last night Cate. If you can only give me last night, tonight, one more night or never again, I'll take it.” Rooney ran her hands down Cate’s arms and held her hands as the tall woman leant back. Cate lifted her knee onto the bed and crossed her foot underneath her, looking down at her hands and Rooney's in her lap. 

“I know Rooney, but I have to tell you, I have to explain it to you.” She looked up. “I meant it, I can't leave Andrew. Not now. Because we've come to an...arrangement? An agreement maybe is a better word.” She sighed, “The last year has been, well, difficult, to say the least,” Cate held her hand up to stop Rooney from speaking, “no, not just because of what happened between us babe, because of what was going on with me and Andrew way before you and me. After - us - after what happened at the Oscars, well last summer I thought I would give it a try, my marriage I mean. It became evident, quickly evident, that it wasn't going to work. Really, our relationship, mine and Andrew’s, was not healthy for any of us. The boys were noticing us arguing, his bond with Edith was suffering, he recognised it and I did too. So we finally talked, and I mean properly talked. Like we haven't done for years really, I don't know when we stopped but we did, we stopped talking. And we agreed that it just wasn't working anymore. I didn't tell him about you and me, I didn't need to because I know it would have been the same with Andrew and me even if _we_ had never experienced anything together Rooney. Honestly.”

Cate released Rooney's hands and reached for her tea and took a sip. She held the mug between both hands in her lap and Rooney leant back against the headboard, listening.

“So we have agreed to end our marriage. But - here's the but - we want it to be gentle and gradual for the children. I don't care about my career or what people think - I care about them, those little, growing people, and how they experience this. We have agreed to gradually separate, to take things apart, slowly, piece by piece so that they get comfortable with the idea. Iggy and Eddy particularly, they are so young - it's too much for them now. So we have like a five year plan - like Stalin.” Cate laughed. “Or Lenin, whatever. I've gone from never having a plan at all to having it all mapped out.”

Cate took a breath. She looked Rooney directly in the eye. “So, Rooney, what I'm saying is that I am yours. I am yours. But no one else can know, for now. I want to meet you when I can - when we both can - as often as we can. I want to see you, I want to be with you, but no one can know. Not for now. It's horribly, horribly selfish of me but things are so finely balanced with Andrew, I can't risk anything tipping it the other way. I can't have ‘an affair’ in the press. I can't have the children find out like that and I can't have anything risk the eventual possibility of Andrew and I parenting together. I can't lose my children like that.”

Rooney remained silent, absorbing what Cate was saying. The blonde got up from the bed and took her tea back to the window, standing again with her back to the room looking out of the window. She sighed and spoke again,

“Andrew and I will still do things together, we always will for the children. We’ll appear together - functions and events - but less and less. We've arranged it all, planned it out. Maybe in a few months though, maybe you and I could be seen in public together? Just, you know, attending the same thing? Casually, no big deal.” Cate turned to face the woman in the bed, her voice tentative now. “Then perhaps we could do it more often, just gradually. I don't know Rooney, I can't promise you anything - that's the problem - and I know you deserve so much more than this. But it’s all I've got. We'd have to be secret for a while baby, quite a while.” She walked to the end of the bed, resting one knee upon it and looking at Rooney.

“What are you thinking?” Cate was searching Rooney's green eyes but she was unreadable.

Rooney reached over for her tea. 

“Sorry about the awful mug, it's my favourite. I've had it for years.”

Rooney looked at the cup in her hand. It was old and chipped - evidently a favourite indeed. It had the symbol of the London Underground on it, “Mind The Gap” it said. Rooney chuckled, it was apt. Apt for a woman who wanted to be so private, to pretend, to hide, to project one life and live another. Could she do it though? Could Rooney be a secret like that and share Cate? Not let the world know that she was hers, that they were each other’s, at least not for a while...

Rooney took a sip of her tea and looked up at the blonde standing at the end of the bed. Cate was so beautiful, captured in the shaft of pale sunlight. The brunette sat back and looked at her, thinking that she was the single, luckiest human in the whole world, to be able to have even the smallest sliver of this glorious creature.

“Well? Talk to me Rooney, could you do this with me?” Cate asked, nervously - 

“Would you?”

~•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - I can't believe that we've finally got to the end. I promised I would finish and I have. I'm not sure I can express in words how important writing this has been for me. I have loved every single moment of writing, editing, posting, seeing your wonderful comments and engaging with you. I hope you have enjoyed the last chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I decided to forgo a final smut shot - I thought the story deserved more and anyway, your imaginations are the best places for that to happen :) 
> 
> But I thought we could do an experiment. If you have enjoyed this - or not - if my words have touched you in any way, please please leave me a comment or just a 'hi' - I'm not courting praise, I just want to see how many we are.
> 
> Finally, it means so much to me that anyone has read my ramblings, so I'd like to thank every single one of you for reading, for your comments, kudos, support and encouragement, it really has been a wonderful, wonderful experience.  
> Thank you :)  
> MMxx


	37. 2nd December 2017 - London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cheeky epilogue: Cate was seen in a record shop this weekend in London (thank you twitter) ahead of her appearance at the Evening Standars Theatre Awards tonight. Just some musings...

“Did you get it?”

“What?” She called back as she dropped her bags in the hallway, shrugging off her coat and grinning. “It's so warm, I'm boiling, I thought it was supposed to be colder…”

“Next week it's getting cold.” The voice shouted from the kitchen, “It's good that it's warm, you won't freeze your ass if tomorrow night. Now, did you get it?” 

“I'm not telling you,” She reached around and hung her coat on the rack by the door to the small flat, kicking it shut with her heel. She slid the bag behind the console table, out of sight and tossed her keys onto the top. Shaking her hair and pulling her boots off, kicking them onto the mat by the door.

“Did you get me my damn record, woman?” Rooney appeared in the hallway, tea towel in her hand, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe and grinning broadly.

“Baby, it's really difficult to get hold of. I couldn't find it in LA, I don't want you to get your hopes up.”

“Yes, but this is London - you can get anything here if you know the right places…” 

“Yeah, well I'm not down with the kids babe, I don't know the right places.” Cate looked at the woman in front of her. Rooney was so excited, her dimples were showing she was smiling so hard. Cate always loved that and she smiled back. Changing the subject she asked “Is that coffee I smell?”

“I call bullshit Blanchett, you know exactly the right places and yes that is coffee, I’m just brewing some.” 

Rooney pushed herself from the doorframe and turned to go back into the kitchen. Cate followed behind her, not surprised to find her eyes drawn to the smaller woman's arse as she walked in front. It was a beautiful arse and Cate could never resist. 

The tall woman took two longer strides, sneaking up quietly and grabbed Rooney's hips just before she reached the stove. The tall blonde roughly pulled the shorter woman to her. Rooney yelped inadvertently and grabbed Cate’s hands on her hips, “Hey, watch it...” she was startled.

“I was watching it,” Cate bent her head forward to kiss Rooney’s neck, the brunette stretched out for her, appreciatively. The blonde breathed her in and ran her tongue up Rooney’s neck, nuzzling her nose into the soft, warm spot behind her ear. “Mmmmm, you smell so good baby,” Cate knew the reaction she would garner from rumbling her deep voice in that spot. Rooney was ridiculously sensitive there, it both tickled her and turned her on, it was torture and ecstasy. Cate licked her dark hairline, making Rooney actually shiver, she felt it.

“Ahhhhhh - stop,” Rooney closed her eyes and pulled her shoulder up, trying to squeeze Cate away from her neck. The taller woman moved her hand to the offending shoulder and pushed it down, holding it firmly and pressing her thumb into Rooney's shoulder blade - again knowing the reaction that that would produce. “Caaaate…”

Cate continued to hold her shoulder firmly, bunching up the neck of Rooney's t-shirt with her fingers to expose the pale skin there. “Mmmmmm?” The older woman murmured as she moved her lips down Rooney's neck and onto the top of her shoulder, kissing and nibbling lightly. She wound her other arm around Rooney's small waist and held her tightly, and started swaying gently, dancing to music that wasn't playing. “What is it baby?”

“Tell me you got me my record?” Rooney reached one hand around behind her to rub the side of Cate’s hip, her fine fingers digging in as she pressed herself back into the taller woman.

At her words Cate bit down into the tender flesh of Rooney's shoulder, causing the brunette to yelp and spin round, putting both of her arms on Cate’s shoulders as the blonde wrapped her arms around Rooney's waist. Cate looked down at her, smiling, “You will have to wait until Christmas Rooney.”

“You know I hate waiting.”

“I know.” Cate leaned down and kissed her lightly. Pulling back up, she looked down at Rooney. The brunette’s eyes were still closed.

“I'll wait though Cate.” She opened her eyes, green meeting blue, “You know I will. I said I would.”

“You did. Thank you Rooney.” Cate leaned in again, kissing the younger woman softly and slowly, moving her hands down to her arse and squeezing lightly, “Not much longer to wait now.”

Rooney smiled and reached up again, opening her mouth, deepening their kiss and moaning softly as the smell of burnt coffee filled the kitchen.


End file.
